Stay or Leave
by meggee
Summary: Bella Swan thought she had met the love of her life until he broke her heart. Four years later, he's back and she's beginning to question everything all over again.
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing _Twilight._

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><p><em>Wake up naked, drinking coffee, <em>

_Making plans to change the world,_

_While the world is changing us._

_It was good, good love._

_Stay or Leave - _Dave Matthews Band

**Chapter One**** - **

**BPOV**

**September 2011**

"No, a little higher."

Jacob just groaned, but lifted the painting higher on the wall.

"Is this good?" he asked.

"A little to the left," I replied, standing back to observe his placement.

He moved to the left slightly, pretending to struggle under the weight of the canvas. It was all for show, Jacob can not only lift it easily but could probably handle another four canvases in his grasp comfortably. He just liked to be an asshole sometimes.

"There, that's perfect!" I clapped my hands together, pleased with the results, "I knew it would look good there."

He marked the spots on the wall of where to hang my painting, laughing at my giddiness as he does. I ignored him, as I usually do, and smiled to myself.

"What do you call this one?" Rosalie, my best friend and business partner, stood next to me, looking at the piece of art.

"I call it '2008'," I answered, gently placing my hand on the canvas, feeling the grooves from the brush in the dried paint.

It was a significantly big piece, but once I saw the canvas in the art store, I knew immediately what I would paint on it. There was a red heart in the center, with different colors continually outlining it until the they ran out of space. The colors began with light shades of pinks, oranges and yellows before slowing become dark blues and purples, ending in black.

"You're such a masochist, Bella," she said, arms crossed over her chest as she took in the image.

"I don't get it," Jacob joined in, "What's it suppose to be?"

Of course Jacob didn't know, nor would he ever. Rosalie has been my best friend since we were five and she moved into the house next to mine in my hometown of Forks, Washington. She knew everything about me and I knew everything about her. Not necessarily because we told each other everything, but because all we had to do is look at each other and we just knew what the other is thinking. It could be incredibly helpful at times and a pain in the ass at others.

"The ice machine is making that funny noise again!" Angela yelled at us from behind the counter.

"That damn ice machine," I muttered, walking into the backroom. After college, Rose and I had stayed in Seattle and went into business together. With her business degree and my street smarts, we opened up our own coffee shop, Bella Rose Café, in downtown Seattle and have successfully been in operation for just over three years.

The café not only allowed us to remain as close as ever, but it also allowed us to pursue other passions. Rose was in the process of taking classes to get her masters and I had more than enough free time to work on my art-my one true love in life; although I had yet to manage to make a considerable profit from it. The shop let me display my new works to customers, who could then purchase any of the works on the walls. It also led me to a few dozen gallery shows due to our eclectic clientele, who were mostly wealthy people who enjoy art. Or rich businessmen who wanted to get in my pants and think hooking me up with a gallery showing will help them achieve that. I used this to my advantage before crushing their spirits-after the shows, of course.

"I hate to say it, but I think it might be time for a new one," Rose said, pulling her tool box out from under the dish sink. Another reason we worked so well together, where I could design the store, she could practically fix any and everything that happened to break. Which happened often.

I watched as she opened up the side of the machine, inspecting the various tubes that hanged inside its body.

"I think we need to take the central tube and connect it to the distribution tube," I said, my eyes squinted in concentration.

Rose stopped what she was doing and just looked at me, as she usually did in these situations.

"You have no idea what you're talking about, do you?" she asked, even though she already knew the answer to that question.

"No idea," I responded, "But for a second, it sounded like I did, didn't it?"

She just laughed, turning back to her work. I really was useless at times like these, but that didn't stop me from annoying the shit out of her by interjecting random plumbing or construction jargon.

"It needs a new flush valve, there's too much lime build up and not enough water can get through," she said, her hand placed on her hip thoughtfully.

I opened my mouth to make some smartass comment, but a loud shriek interrupted us. Angela came flying into the backroom, her eyes wide with terror. Which wasn't exactly saying much, Angela has always been a worrywart and typically over exaggerates.

"Um, I think one of you might need to come out here and talk to this lady," she said, and as the door swung behind her we could hear a woman's shrill voice yelling in the café, "Mike might've accidentally spilled hot coffee all over someone."

Rose and I simultaneously groaned. Mike was a new hire, who seemed to be having a particularly hard time catching on to the way the shop ran.

"I got it, just finish up here," I said to Rose, following Angela back out to the floor.

There was a woman standing at the drink hand-off plane, hands up in the air, a giant coffee stain covering her entire front. It wasn't the first time this had happened and I was sure it wouldn't be the last. . .especially with Mike working here now.

"You did that on purpose!" the woman was screaming, her face red with rage.

She was young, probably no older than myself. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun and her now-ruined suit was impeccable, probably something designer and ridiculously expensive.

"I'm so sorry, I thought the lid was all the way on," Mike stammered, flustered and practically on the verge of tears.

I began walking towards them, thinking of how much ass-kissing I was about to do to smooth things over. Sometimes working in customer service really, really sucked.

"Can you believe this?" she was saying to someone out of my sight, then to Mike, "This suit is worth more than your parents make in a year, kid."

"I'm so sorry," Mike just kept repeating.

"I'm sure it was just an accident, Tanya," a voice, still out of view, said.

I stopped dead in my tracks. I knew that voice, knew it like I knew my own. I didn't have to see who it belonged to, to know who it was. But he stepped into view, his arm coming to hold the woman's elbow. Hair the same fiery shade of copper and brown, eyes still that magnificent shade of green. His body, once softer and more gangly, had hardened into muscle and brawn. He wasn't wearing the t-shirt and jeans combo that I had known to be his wardrobe for all of college, he was wearing a suit that was probably just as expensive as the woman's.

"If he's that clumsy, he shouldn't be working around hot liquids," the woman continued, as though Mike wasn't standing a mere three feet away from her.

I slowly backed away, hoping not to draw attention to myself. I made it safely to the back room, my heart pounding so hard I wouldn't have been surprised if you could see it through my shirt.

"I think I fixed it for now," Rose's voice was muffled, her head practically buried in the machine.

I didn't respond, instead focusing on breathing. In and out. In and out. When she realized I wasn't going to make a pissy comment, she looked over at me.

"What's going on out there?" she asked, taking in my rapidly rising and falling chest, my flushed cheeks.

"Mike spilled coffee on some woman," I answered numbly.

"Okay. . .," she waited until I continued, not understanding my current state of panic.

After a few more seconds, when I could finally manage words, I opened my mouth to speak.

"Edward is here."

"What?" she suddenly moved to stand in front of me.

I didn't answer, instead I just pointed to the café. She walked over to the door, peering out the small window. She gasped, confirming that I was not hallucinating and that Edward Cullen was, in fact, standing in my coffee shop.

"You need to go take care of it," I said, moving to sit at our desk which was crammed into the backroom-along with the ice machine, all of our supplies and pretty much Rose's entire tool collection.

She looked at me, unsure if she should leave me in my current state. Ultimately the woman's screams helped to make her decision and she pushed her way out of the room. Curiosity got the better of me and I practically crawl, army-style, over to the door, wedging it open enough so that I could hear what was going on.

"I'm the manager," I heard Rose's voice, completely professional and cold, say.

I didn't have to see his face, just hear his voice to know the shock Edward felt at seeing Rosalie Hale standing in front of him. It was a face he probably thought he'd never see again.

**April 2008**

"So when do you guys move in?" Rosalie asked, her feet dangling from her spot on our kitchen counter.

We were in the middle of packing up the apartment which we had spent the past three years living together in. After our freshman year, we both came to the same conclusion that dorm life just wasn't for us. You could only take so many drunken, naked streaks down the halls at 1 a.m. on a Tuesday morning. Even if we were the ones who was doing the streaking. I think we both realized for the sake of our reputations we should probably get a place of our own, where we could chug 40s after an exam and not have to worry about the entire freshman dorm seeing our naked asses.

"Edward had to stop over to his father's office and then he's going to get the keys from the landlord," I answered, taping up another box of dishes, "We can pretty much move in whenever."

I couldn't help the smile that had been plastered on my face since Edward had asked if I wanted to move in together after graduation. Neither of us were entirely sure what we were going to do with our lives, but it didn't matter because we had each other. We were so in love that nothing else mattered. Every day I loved him more and more, I had never known it was possible to have those feelings for another human being. We had been together for nearly four years and every time he looked at me it was like he was seeing me for the first time. I could hardly believe my luck.

My phone rang then, interrupting my thoughts. I pulled out my cell phone to see Edward's name on the screen. My heart started beating faster just at seeing his name.

"Hey you," I answered.

"Are you still at the old apartment?" he asked briskly.

"Um, yeah," I said, slightly taken aback.

"Can you come over here? I'm at the new place, I need to talk to you," his voice had sounded defeated almost, but not enough to alarm me.

"Sure babe, let me just load up the car with some boxes and I'll be right over," I looked over at Rose, who was pretending to read the latest issue of _Cosmo_ when really I knew that she was eavesdropping.

"No, just come over now, it's important," I wished that I could see his face, not able to comprehend the way his voice was coming across.

"Okay," I answered and before I could say another word, he had ended the call.

I stared at my phone, as though waiting for him to call back and say he was messing with me. I was frequently a victim to his pranks, even though he knew I despised them.

"What was that about?" Rose asked, hopping off the counter.

"I don't know," I continued staring at the phone, "I gotta go, I'll be back later."

She just looked at me like I had grown a second head. I grabbed my purse, stepping into a pair of flip-flops I kept by the door. The whole drive over, I kept imagining what I would find when I arrived. There was a tiny, small part of me that was genuinely freaked out; but the more rational part of my brain was pushing it down. This was Edward. I would probably walk into the apartment and see that he had decided to buy a pool table without telling me. Or some god-awful couch. The boy had enough money to spend it on absolutely ridiculous things just because he wanted to see my reaction to them. This might be the Pamela Anderson cardboard cut-out incident all over again.

When I arrived to our new complex, I parked my old truck in the spot next to his beloved Volvo. I walked over to it, placing my hand on the hood, remembering nights spent in the backseat, road trips to see bands we loved, so many memories.

The door to our apartment was open, a box propping it ajar. I hesitantly walked in, expecting to see another one of Edward's impulsive buys. With the exception of the one holding the door, however, the place was empty.

"Edward?" I called out.

It took a few seconds, but he emerged from what was to be our bedroom. I took him in, the way his jeans curved over his thighs and ass so perfectly. The way his blue t-shirt hugged his torso that gave me a preview of the man I knew he would one day turn into. My gaze continued on to his face, which is where it stopped.

"What's wrong?" I asked, upon seeing his red eyes.

Edward never cried. I didn't even think he was capable of it. From the day we first met, all I ever saw was a smile, or that sexy smirk he gave me when he was trying to seduce me, or that mischievous look he had when he had done something wrong.

I went to stand in front of him, taking his face in my hands.

"Edward," I said, the sense of dread growing within me, "Is it Carlisle? Or Esme? What's wrong?"

He just stood there, my face in his hands, staring me in the eyes as though he was trying to drink me in. I didn't understand why he was acting so strangely.

"Carlisle is sick," was all he said.

My heart dropped.

"Sick? How?"

He pulled my hands off his face and walked over to the balcony, his back to me as he spoke.

"Someone has to run the company while he goes into treatment and he asked me to do it," his voice was dead calm.

I slowly digested the information. Okay, so things weren't going to be exactly as we had imagined them. That was alright.

"It's not forever," I walked over, putting my hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

He just looked down at it, a sad smile appearing on his lips. I knew he could feel the electric current that passed between us every time we touched. No amount of time would ever get either of us to that feeling.

"I'm going to work in the London offices," he said suddenly, turning his head back to look outside, "Carlisle needs me to go over there to instill confidence in the international shareholders."

I kept my hand on his shoulder, taking it all in.

"London," I repeated, "Well, it's not what we planned, but that's okay."

He didn't speak for a minute, as though he was contemplating what to say next. Thinking carefully what words he would use.

"Alone," he said softly.

"What?" I asked, not sure if I had heard him right.

He turned then, finally looking me in the eyes. His face was set and determined, angry almost. He had never looked at me like that before and I slowly backed away from him, suddenly frightened.

"I'm going alone, Bella," he said again, "I can't have any distractions, I need to focus on my father's company."

All at once, it was like I had been punched in the gut. I couldn't breathe.

"What?" I whispered.

"Cullen & Co. is a Fortune 500 company, I'm barely going to have enough time to eat. I can't have you being there, taking me away from what is important. This, it's not good for me," he looked down at the ground then, unable to look at me as he said the words.

"You mean I'm not good for you," I could feel the emptiness filling me already, the void that was being created by his words.

He didn't respond, but with the affirmative look in his eyes, he didn't have to.

I had always wondered when this day would come, when he would wake up and realize we were two very different people from two very different worlds. I was a small town girl from a middle-class family. He was the son of Carlisle Cullen, president and CEO of one of the world's biggest investment firms. And despite all of his reassuring, despite all of his words telling me otherwise, I think deep down I had always known I would walk into this apartment one day and he would break my heart.

"Bella," his voice was suddenly back to being the one I knew, the one that had whispered in my ear while we made love in his bed, so sincere and gentle.

I just stared at him, not knowing it was possible to love and hate someone so much at the same time.

"Bella," he repeated, stepping towards me and putting his hand over mine.

"Don't touch me," I screamed, jerking my hand away from his.

It had felt like the walls were closing in around me, that I was suffocating. I needed to leave, to get as far away from him and this apartment, our apartment, as possible.

I just stared at him, my mouth hanging wide open in utter shock.

"Fuck you," were the last words I spoke to Edward Cullen.

I left him and my heart in that apartment and never looked back.

**September 2011**

As I sat on the floor, leaning against the door that separated the backroom from the café, I remembered that day. It seemed like so long ago, I was a completely different girl then. So in love, so naïve, so stupid. It was about a week after I walked out of that apartment that I saw Edward again. It wasn't in person, however, it was on CNN. I had watched as the reporter spoke over the segment, showing Edward standing next to his father, who looked the picture of health, at a press conference. Carlisle's voice filled my ears:

"_Today is a great day for me, as a father. Today I welcome my son Edward into Cullen & Co. as COO. He will be running our London offices, while I continue overseeing the company stateside. It brings me great pride knowing that this company, that I built from the ground up, will continue on in my family. I look forward to many, many more years ahead as Edward helps me take Cullen & Co. further into the 21st__ century."_

I had sat there, on the couch of Rose and mine's apartment, staring blankly at the screen.

He had lied. His father wasn't ill at all. Edward wanted to go to London and he simply didn't want me anymore.

"You need to fire this boy," I heard the woman, whom Edward had called Tanya, say to Rosalie.

"Rosalie?" Edward had said at the same time.

I wish I could see his face in that moment, but my body was paralyzed on the floor.

"Can I help you?" Rose feigned ignorance, as though she didn't recognize this man she had seen in her dorm and apartment, everyday, for nearly all of college.

"It's Edward," he said, "Edward Cullen."

I had to hand it to Rose, she could certainly play up the bitch role when she wanted to.

"Edward?" she said, as though she was thinking, "Oh! Edward Cullen! Oh my god, I barely recognized you."

I didn't know if he believed her or not, but I knew how convincing Rose could be.

"You two know each other?" Tanya asked, clearly annoyed.

"I. . .we. . . " Edward stuttered over his words, "We went to college together."

"Oh, how quaint," Tanya said, "Now, just so we're clear, you will be paying for my dry cleaning bill."

"Rose," Edward ignored her, "How are you?"

"I'm good," Rose acted indifferent, "And of course we will take care of the bill."

I knew Rosalie was just trying to get him out of here before I full on had a panic attack or worse, went out and straight punched him in the face for the asshole that he was.

"Is this your shop?" he asked, not giving up on conversation with her.

"Yeah, I opened it a little bit after college. We didn't all have trust funds waiting around for us," her tone was friendly, but I knew it was a dig.

He laughed nervously and I wondered why he was prolonging the awkwardness anymore than necessary. Maybe he felt guilty, for completely shattering her best friend years before.

I finally worked up the strength to pull myself off the floor, looking out the window to witness their interaction. He was looking at her, shell-shocked. His eyes went to the sign that hung over the menu board behind her that read _Bella Rose Café. _

"Bella?" he asked suddenly.

It felt like my heart stopped beating in that instant, when my name crossed his lips. Rose turned around, following his eyes to the sign.

"Oh yeah, I named the shop after her," she answered, then added, "You know, after the accident."

I rolled my eyes, knowing that a massive lie was about to leave her lips. Rose was a master manipulator. It was how she convinced me to give her my favorite stuffed animal when we were kids, how she convinced me to drink my first beer when we were teens and how she convinced me to go to that party the night I met Edward for the first time.

"Accident?" he repeated, "What accident?"

"You didn't hear?" she asked, with mock surprise.

"No," his voice suddenly changed, from one of arrogant confidence to one of gentleness, of the boy I had once loved.

"It was right after the summer we graduated, there was a car accident," her face showed no signs of deception.

She wasn't lying, exactly. I had been in a car accident the summer after we graduated, but what she failed to mention was that it was a minor one that had left me with just a broken arm and a few bruises. It was barely newsworthy. In fact, the only place I had seen it mentioned was in the Forks Herald and that was probably only because my father was the chief of police.

"I really miss her," she said sadly.

I wanted to laugh, but I knew that'd draw attention to myself. God, Rose was such a bitch.

"I. . .," his mouth just hung open and for a second a saw pain flicker across his face.

Good. I wanted him to hurt as much as he had hurt me.

"I better get back to work, those cups aren't going to order themselves," she started walking towards me, "It was great seeing you again, Cullen."

I quickly stepped back, so no one would see me. Rose came through the door, a huge grin on her face.

"You're welcome," was all she said.

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><p><strong>AN: **Let me know what you think, thanks.


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing _Twlight._

* * *

><p><em>You use to laugh under the covers,<em>

_Maybe not so often now._

_The way I use to laugh with you,_

_Was loud and hard._

_Stay or Leave - _Dave Matthews Band

**Chapter Two**

**BPOV**

**September 2011**

As I finished up the payroll, my phone started ringing. I immediately cringed at the ringtone-Enrique Iglesias' _Hero. _

Rose.

She thought it was funny to steal my phone and program in the most ridiculous, embarrassing songs. She had a knack for timing them just right. Like the time I was on a date and she had programmed in Rod Stewart's _Do Ya Think I'm Sexy? _Or when I was at the gynecologists' office and she had Madonna's _Like A Virgin _programmed in.

"Hello?" I answered, not glancing at the caller ID.

"Bells," my mother's voice came through the line.

"Hey mom," I responded, glancing at the clock on the computer screen in front of me, "Shouldn't you be in bed? It's past 8 p.m."

"Har, har, you're so funny. God, I'm not that old," she replied, "I still have an ass so tight you could bounce a quarter off it."

"Oh god, mom, really?" I faked a dry heave into the receiver.

"Hey, your father never complains, just saying."

After the image of my parents having sex, and the urge to vomit, passed, I was able to form words again, "Is there a reason for this call? Or did you just want to put me back into therapy for a few more years?"

She laughed, an obnoxiously loud laugh that has been dubbed by my friends as 'The Swan Women Laugh.' Apparently, my mother and I laughed exactly the same. . .although I still refused to admit it.

"I do have a reason, actually," she paused, as though thinking whether she should proceed with her words.

"Spill it, mom," I said, prodding her to reveal whatever she was failing to hide.

"Well, it's the strangest thing, today we received a package. At first, I thought maybe it was the new lingerie I had bought for your dad's birthday present-"

"Stop! Right there, mom, stop!" I yelled, not sure if my brain could handle anymore images of parents' sex life. Almost 30 years of marriage, and they were still as hot for each other as the day they met. It was rather disturbing to me, though my friends found it to be incredibly sweet.

"Okay, okay. Anyway, we received a rather large bouquet of flower's from. . ." she mumbled off towards the end, and I was unable to hear her.

"I think you're breaking up, what did you say?" I cupped the receiver, not sure if she could hear me.

Rose walked into the backroom, holding one of the two register tills. Although we were open until 9 p.m., we always shut down one of the registers early so we could get out of here as soon as possible.

"I said the flowers were from," she hesitated once again, "Edward Cullen."

"What!" I yelled so loud, Rose almost dropped the tills, thankfully catching it at the last second.

She glared at me as she slammed it down next to the coin counter. There was nothing more annoying than having to pick up all that change off the floor, especially when the coins liked to roll in all directions. It became a scavenger hunt trying to find them all.

"That's not the strangest part, the card says, _'Charlie & Renee, My condolences, I've only just heard of what happened to Bella. I wish I had known sooner. I wish a lot of things. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for your family. -Edward Cullen'," _she stopped for a second, "What the hell is this about?"

It was now my turn to glare at Rose, who could clearly hear my mother's loud voice through the phone. She looked away from me, but I could see that her shoulders were shaking as she attempted to fight back her laugh.

"Long story, mom, I'll explain later," I lifted my foot up and gave Rosalie a swift kick to the ass, "I'm at work right now. Just throw them away."

"They're so pretty though," she grumbled, "I'll just throw the card away and keep the flowers. Or, better yet, we'll have a ceremonial burning. Like we did when that jerk left the first time."

"How about we don't? I don't to spend anymore time thinking about Edward Cullen," I said, "The last thing I ever wanted was for him to reappear in my life and now I just want to get him out of it again before. . ."

I stopped myself. Before what? I quickly shook the thought out of my head.

"Okay, no worries sweetie. Your dad wants to know what time is your art thingy on Saturday?"

"Art thingy?" I repeated with a laugh, "The Seattle Art Auction starts at 8 p.m. Just try to get there early so you can have decent seats. And mom, please remind dad that it's black tie. I really don't want another incident of him showing up in his jeans and flannel."

I had somehow managed to score an invite to Seattle's biggest, most prestigious art gala. One of the bigwigs' daughter was a regular to the shop. She'd shown her father some of my work and next thing I knew, I not only had five tickets to the event but was actually asked to submit some of my pieces that would be auctioned off for charity.

"Alright, honey, I have to go," she said, then yelled something to someone in the background, "Your father is trying to cook again."

Rose was on me as soon as I set my phone down.

"Spill," she had positioned herself on the desk next to my paperwork.

"Spill what?"

"Bella," she rolled her eyes, "You see Edward Cullen for the first time in almost four years, after he completely broke your heart, and you've spent the past two days acting like it never happened. Like he didn't buy a cup of coffee from your coffee shop."

"Lets rewind a bit, shall we?" I pushed myself away from the desk, folding my arms over my chest, "After he WILLINGLY left me, I spent a year crying, not eating and basically on the brink of death. The next year I dated anyone who would have me in a vain attempt to replace and forget him. I spent the third year acting like he never existed and this year. . .well, I just don't have it in me to even care anymore. I'm done with him."

She looked at me, her eyes studying me carefully. A smirk formed on her lips.

"You're a terrible liar, Bella Swan," she just shook her head, laughing to herself.

"Besides, thanks to you, I'm dead to him. . .literally."

She began counting the drawer down and I continued on processing the payroll for the past week's pay period. We're back in our usual routine, it's almost become like a dance the way we can work with each other so efficiently in running our business.

"Sometimes I wish I had never talked you into coming to that party," she said suddenly, breaking the silence, "I'll never forgive myself for pretty much introducing the two of you."

I just smiled sadly at her, knowing how much guilt she felt over the entire situation. Like it was somehow her fault that I had met Edward, fallen madly in love with him and then nearly died from a broken heart when he dumped me out of nowhere.

**October 2004**

"Bella, pleeeeeeeeease," Rosalie had gotten on her hands and knees, and was now literally begging me to go to some fraternity party she'd been invited to.

"Rose, YOU were invited, not me," I waved her off, dismissing the notion of any sort of frat party.

"I can't go alone. Plus, I don't want to go with any of these bitches that live in the dorm. I'd turn my back and they'd no sooner stab me and step over my dead body to get to whatever guy I happened to be talking to," she continued to whine.

"You're being a tad dramatic," I rolled my eyes.

She began the patent Rosalie Hale pout that I had spent the better part of 13 years relenting to. She knew that she had me, it was only a matter of time before I would succumb.

"There's going to be a ton of cute boys there," she leads, "and all the free beer you could want."

"Just what I always dreamed of as a young girl: a slightly overweight frat guy getting a cup of stale Natural Light for me in a red Solo cup. I can already hear myself telling the grandkids about the night Nana went slumming on fraternity row and found Grandpa," I had gone back to my desk at this point, finishing up an assignment that wasn't due for another week. I was a dork and I freely admitted and accepted it.

"Okay, now _you're_ being a tad dramatic," Rose responded, then came up beside me, "Bella, please."

She pouted her lips, looking so utterly pathetic that I knew I was going to cave. I groaned and she knew that she had me.

"Yay!" she clapped her hands together, "I'm going to do your hair and makeup. And I already know what you're going to wear."

Three hours later, I had been plucked, prodded and somehow zipped into the world's tiniest dress. I honestly didn't know how I got there, but at this point, I was pretty much use to it being friends with Rosalie.

"Wow, you actually look like you have boobs in that dress," Rose admired me from across the room, zipping up her own dress.

"Um, ouch bitch," I feigned being offended, then turned to look at myself in the mirror, "But seriously, look at these things."

I couldn't help but admire Rosalie's work, somehow having given me ample cleavage. I actually looked my age for once instead of the fifteen year old girl body I couldn't seem to grow out of.

"Are you sure we're not overdressed?" I asked self-consciously, not wanting to make myself look like more of a fool than I already felt.

"Are you kidding? Have you seen the way the girls dress around here? You can't lave your room wearing sweatpants without getting side-eyed," she was putting in a pair of gold hoop earrings, which matched the gold undertone in her dress.

It was a long walk to the party. Well, it wasn't that long of a walk but I was in heels so it felt like a long walk. The party was already in full swing by the time we arrived, music blaring out of speakers, people making out on every available surface, some kid doing a keg stand. Rose took my hand, leading me through the fraternity house. I ignored the comments and leers we received, keeping my eyes focused on the back of Rose's head. She seemed like she knew where she was going and it was far too loud in here to object to where she was taking me. We emerged in what appeared to be a kitchen, cases of beer stacked up against the wall.

"Oh, look, Natural Light," I commented, earning a glare from her.

"Hey ladies, how can I help you?" Generic Frat Guy said from behind the kitchen island.

"Can we get two?" Rose threw him her signature smile, which basically always got her whatever she wanted.

"Anything for you, beautiful," he replied and I had to fight to roll my eyes. Any beer was better than no beer.

He poured the cans into two cups, handing them to us. His hand lingered over Rose's a bit longer than necessary and this time, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Fortunately, he was so focused on Rose's cleavage that he didn't notice.

"I'm going to go get some air, I'll be out on the back porch," I said to her.

"I'll come with you," she clearly didn't want to leave, but didn't want to be a bad friend.

"No, stay, I'll be fine," I pulled my phone out of my purse, "I have my cell on me if you can't find me."

She gave me a silent 'thank you' with her eyes, and I turned to leave. I knew that she wasn't genuinely interested in him, but Rose was a flirt and loved talking to guys. I, on the other hand, usually managed to say something incredibly offensive and off-putting within the first five minutes of meeting a guy.

I shoved my way through the crowd, a couple of people were grinding on each other in the living room in what appeared to be a make-shift dance floor. Oh, college. I finally made it to the back, happy to see that there was no one else out here to annoy me. I sipped my beer, breathing in the scent of Washington in the fall. Someone was having a campfire nearby, the air smelled of burnt wood.

"No, I said 972 North College, not 927," a male's voice suddenly joined me on the patio.

I stayed where I was, hoping he wouldn't see me and would finish his phone call and go back to the party.

"I swear Emmett, how do you not understand simple directions? Have you become that reliant on your GPS that you can't follow walking directions?" the guy huffed, angrily, "Yeah, yeah, I'll be here. Just hurry."

I continued to sip on my beer, not turning to him. When there's a long stretch of silence, I figured he had gone back inside. Suddenly, however, I felt a warm body next to me, leaning against the rail.

"So, do you come here often?" he asked, shocking me so much that I can't help but look at him. I immediately felt myself blush and turned my head away, trying to hide it from him. He was beautiful in the way that movie stars were beautiful. Bronzed, copper-colored hair, the greenest eyes I'd ever seen and a lop-sided grin that I'm sure he knew how to use on women all too well.

Before I could think, I heard myself saying, "Please tell me you don't actually use that line on women."

There was a brief glimmer of shock that passed over his face before he reigned his emotions in.

"Well, not anymore I won't," he actually laughed, surprising me. I had been expecting some sort of biting comeback.

He just continued smiling that smile at me, a mischievous look in his eyes. Like he knew something I didn't.

"Edward Cullen," he said, holding his hand out to me. I reluctantly took it, our fingers touching gently. There was a sudden shock, like when you rub your socks on the carpet and then touch something. His eyes went wide for a moment and I knew that he felt it too.

"Bella Swan," I replied, after collecting my bearings.

"Bella," he whispered, releasing my hand and leaning towards me. I could feel the heat rolling off his body in waves, the way his eyes were staring at me like he was trying to figure something out. Our faces were inches apart, our exhales embracing each other.

I shook my head, stepping back from him. The beer was affecting me more than I had thought, but I guess that would happen when you're such a lightweight. He stepped towards me, his green eyes burning into my brown ones. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my palms beginning to sweat. I wanted to run away, to hide, to be anywhere but here. But most of all, I wanted him to kiss me.

His eyes gazed down at my lips, and he licked his own as if in anticipation. I felt myself leaning in to him, no longer in control of my own body. Our lips touched, so softly that I didn't think it had happened at first. Except that the current that ran through my body ignited and I felt more alive with his lips barely grazing mine than I ever had before. He pulled away, but our foreheads remained touching.

"Did you feel it too?" he whispered to me, his eyes searching mine.

"Oh my god, Bella," Rosalie burst through the backdoor and I jumped back, hoping she hadn't seen mine and Edward's close proximity, "We need to leave."

I looked at her, confused. My eyes drifted back to Edward who was staring at me with the same intensity as before.

"What? Why?" I had to look away from him, it was too much to take in.

"I may have accidentally spilled some beer down the front of some girl's shirt and she may be after me now, wanting to kick my ass," she said, a grin plastered on her face.

She then sees Edward standing next to me.

"Oh, hello," she walked closer to us, "Did I interrupt something?"

She winked at me and my face turned an even brighter shade of red than previous.

"No," I spat, turning to him and hoping my blush wasn't that noticeable in the dark, "It was nice meeting you, Edward."

He gave me that smile, the one that has probably broken girls' hearts all over the state of Washington. I needed to get out of there, to get as far from him as possible. The last thing I needed my first year of school was to fall in love with some asshole frat guy who slept with anything that had a vagina and a pulse. I followed Rose through the door, not turning to look back at him even though I so desperately wanted to.

When I went to shower the following morning, there was a handwritten note tacked to the small bulletin board Rose and I had hung up on the outside of our door.

_How much does a penguin weigh?_

_Enough to break the ice. Call me._

_555-8547_

_Edward_

**September 2011**

"Who's your fifth person?" Rose asked as she popped two pieces of toast into the toaster oven.

It was Friday morning, 7 a.m. Which was actually sleeping in for us, as we were usually up at 4 a.m. to open the shop. Fridays, however, were Angela's day to open allowing Rose and I to get a few extra hours of rest. Having our apartment directly above the shop, we were practically there 24/7 anyway.

"Huh?" I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I would never get use to getting up any earlier than 10 a.m., no matter how long I'd been doing it.

"For the gala, you have five tickets," she gave me her 'duh' look, "I know your parents are coming, then me and Jake. Who are you giving the other ticket to?"

"I hadn't thought that far in advance," I wrap my robe tighter around me, "Probably Angela."

She nodded her head, yawning in the process.

"I'm going to run downstairs and grab a cup of coffee, you want?"

"Yes please," I smiled at her, caffeine always perked me right up.

One of the best things about living so close to work was that we could pop down there whenever we felt like it and get something to drink. Most of the time, we didn't even bother putting pants on, instead just barreling down there in our robes.

"Be right back," she hurried out the front door.

I walked over to the couch, bundling myself up in the throw that we kept on the back cushion. It had been unseasonably chilly for the past week and our apartment sucked at keeping the wind out. In the dead of winter, walking on the wood floors felt like walking on ice. My mind went to the show on Saturday, as I still couldn't think of what piece I wanted to auction off. I knew which piece I should auction off, I just didn't know if I was ready to part with it. The '2008' painting hung downstairs in the café, mocking me every time I glanced at it. Before it had been therapeutic. Getting out the residual feelings for Edward that still lingered in my heart.

Seeing him the other day affected me a lot more than I was willing to admit. Four years I spent, building up a wall around my heart that I was certain he would never be able to penetrate. Four years I spent, seeing him on television, in magazines. _People's _Most Eligible Bachelor. A different woman on his arm at every event. I had numbed myself to it. But seeing him here, in person, so close I could reach out and touch him. . .I couldn't deny what it did to me. It was like my heart was beating back to life. It scared the shit out of me.

"Holy hell," Rose bounded into the room, slamming the door shut behind her and leaning against it.

"What?"

"Edward and that reddish-blonde chick were down there," her breathing was fast, "I just made a complete ass of myself, walking in there in my pajamas like a crazy person."

"Since when do you care what people think of you?" I asked, walking towards her to grab my coffee from her hands.

"Since Emmett was with them," she leaned her head back on the door and groaned.

I had nearly forgotten about the "relationship" that had occurred between Rosalie and Emmett, Edward's brother. To say that the two of them hated each other would be an understatement. They were constantly fighting when we were in school, always bickering and arguing. I knew that was Rose's way of showing a guy she liked him, but they were both so stubborn that nothing ever came of it. By the time Rose admitted to me that she did, in fact, have feelings for him, Edward had dumped me. She vowed solidarity and never spoke to Emmett again.

"He asked me if the hairstyle I was going for was psycho-sheik," she glanced in our hall mirror, furiously brushing her fingers through her hair, "Not exactly the impression I wanted to make after four years."

"Why the hell are they down there, anyway? Edward lives in London," I could feel the anxiety building over the thought of having a run-in with him. Maybe I could convince him that I was actually a ghost or that I was just a figment of his imagination. Yeah. . .that would work. . .nicely played, Swan.

"Edward and that girl are here for some kind of conference, they leave Sunday," she answered. Of course she would know, leave it to Rose to get all the dirt.

My heart dropped and I hated myself for it. I just wanted one more glimpse and then I'd finally be able to rid myself of him. Good lord, I sound like some sort of crack addict needing one last score.

"You know," I said to Rose, in an attempt to distract myself, "You really do have crazy person hair right now. Frankly, I'm embarrassed for you."

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><p><strong>AN: **Wow, thank you so much for the feedback, I truly appreciate it. Let me know what you think of this one.


	3. Chapter 3

The first part of this chapter was originally supposed to be a part of the last one, but it got too long so I split it up and added on to this one. Hence why I'm posting it so soon.

I own nothing _Twlight._

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><p><em>Nothing compares, no worries or cares,<em>

_Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made,_

_Who would've known how bittersweet this would taste?_

_Someone Like You _- Adele

**Chapter Three**

**BPOV**

**September 2011**

"There is no way in hell that I am letting you out of the house wearing that," Rose looked down from her magazine, taking in my appearance as I walked out of my bedroom.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked, looking down at the simple pale blue dress that I always wore to formal functions.

"'What's wrong with it?'" she mocked, "Honey, there aren't enough hours in the day for me to tell you what is wrong with that dress. It looks like something a librarian would wear."

I rolled my eyes, Rose was constantly harping on me to wear more modern, fashionable clothes. It really didn't matter what I wore, it always ended up with either paint or coffee stains all over it.

"It's comfortable," I plopped down on the couch next to her.

"Isabella, how many times do I have to tell you? If it's comfortable, you probably shouldn't be wearing it," she put her arm around my shoulders, "Unless it's sweatpants and a t-shirt, which should only be worn within the confines of your own home where no one can see you."

"Says the girl who traipsed downstairs in her pajamas yesterday morning," I grumbled.

She punched my arm as she stood, dragging me off the couch with her.

"Come, we're going shopping in my closet," she led the way to her bedroom on the other side of the apartment.

Rose's wardrobe was something that I had always envied. She somehow managed to always look so chic and gorgeous without ever really seeming to try. Anytime I attempted to look even half as good as she looked, it ended in epic failure. Like the time I poked my eye with the mascara brush and had to go to the emergency room to have it flushed out. Or the time I broke my ankle in a pair of six inch heels. I'm pretty sure that was the same night I unintentionally showed the entire bar my crotch as I tumbled over in my dress. Rose has hence referred to that night as The Britney Spears Incident.

"This is an elegant function, Bells. You can't wear something that everyone has already seen," she disappeared somewhere in her closet, emerging seconds later with a handful of dresses. I didn't know how she did it.

"Well, you can't wear this one because I'm wearing this," she said, setting a red number on her bed, "Nothing blue, you always wear blue. Hmmm."

She stared me down, as though she was dressing me in her mind. I was terrified, to say the least.

"Green!" she yelled suddenly.

"You sound like you have color Tourette's," I replied, moving to sit at the chair of her desk.

She went back into her closet, appearing seconds later with a long silk green dress. The straps were thin, forming a v-neck at the front. It was backless, dipping down to what I would imagine would be the top of my ass cheeks.

"Where did you get that?" I had to admit, it was a stunning dress.

"It's a knock-off of that dress Keira Knightly wore in _Atonement," _she held the dress up so we were fully able to appreciate it.

"I thought you didn't do knock-offs," I stood, walking towards her and the dress.

"I was going through a phase," she handed the dress to me, "Now hurry up, we have to get ready. We need to leave in two hours and it's going to take a lot of work for me to make you look presentable."

I glared at her, but she ignored me, hanging the reject dresses back up in closet.

Two hours later, to the dot, we emerged from our apartment. I wasn't sure what exactly had just happened, but somehow Rose had managed to not only dress herself but me as well. In addition, she had done both of our makeup and hair. She was a multi-tasker and micro-manager extraordinaire.

"I'm so glad you finally got boobs, now you can actually fill things out," she said as we walked to the car.

"It only took 24 years, but I knew one day I would become a woman," I reached down, cupping my breasts which had grown several cup sizes in the past few years.

Once we were in Rose's Jetta, the nerves hit me. This was my first big art show. There were going to be very important, wealthy people there. People who could pretty much set up my career for life.

"Stop worrying," Rose said, somehow reading my thoughts, "Your painting is going to sell for a ton of money and all those rich snobs will be begging you for more art."

I smiled to myself, somehow she always knew just what to say when I needed to hear it most. We made our way through the city, towards the museum that was hosting the event. Jake had delivered my piece earlier in the day and was set to meet us out front with Angela. My parents, if they weren't making out like horn dogs in a closet, would be somewhere inside.

As Rose handed the keys over to the valet, I realized that she had been right. My previous dress would've looked absolutely ridiculous here. These people had money and weren't afraid to show it. We made our way to the main entrance, an extremely elaborate hall with a giant crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"There is the woman of the hour!" Jake walked up to us, Angela in tow.

"Hey," I pulled him into a hug, "Thanks again for dropping off the painting earlier."

"No sweat," he gave me a squeeze before pulling away, "I can't believe you're auctioning off that one. It hasn't even been in the shop for a week."

"Yeah, someone even expressed interest in buying it," Angela spoke up, "You could've made some money off it."

"Eh," I waved my hand, "I'd rather it go to charity. Rose would've somehow convinced me to spend the money on clothes and beer, anyway."

"She speaks the truth," Rose agreed.

We find my parents already seated at our table, place cards marking our spots. The museum had really outdone itself. There was a stage set up at the back of the room where the actual auction would take place, then tables set up around the sides of the room for the dinner. A dance floor had been set up in the center, with the band's equipment placed next to the stage. I cringed, inwardly. I wasn't aware that dancing would be taking place. The last thing these rich people needed to see was a bunch of drunk middle-classers like us doing the Macarena. Which Jake was known to do on several occasions.

"Oh, a dance floor," Jake said, as if on cue.

Rose and I exchanged looks, knowing this could get really ugly really quickly.

"Relax," he reassured us when he noticed our looks, "No line dancing this time, I promise."

We're through our appetizers and onto the main course, a food that I can't pronounce, when the emcee takes the stage.

"Here we go, Bells," my dad whispered to me, a proud smile on his face.

The entire room hushes as an elderly man, whom I recognized, took the mic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, some of you may recognize me and others may be wondering who let that old man on stage," the audience laughed, "I'm Aro Moore, head curator for the Seattle Art Museum. And it is my extreme pleasure to welcome you tonight to our annual Seattle Art Auction. As you know, every year we feature local burgeoning talents to help promote these artists and their craft, in addition to helping a local charity. In the past, we have raised over ten million dollars for a multitude of charities and organizations and we hope tonight will be no exception. So without further ado, I'd like to get this thing started."

He introduced the first piece, an abstract painting from an artist I am vaguely familiar with. To my extreme horror, the artist got called to the stage to talk about the painting and his inspiration for it. I wasn't aware that we were going to have to be onstage, addressing the massive audience.

Rose, as if sensing my sudden panic, put her hand over mine and gave it a slight squeeze.

"Just picture everyone their underwear," my mom whispered to me across the table. She was all too familiar with my stage fright. She had made me do ballet as a child and when we had our first recital, as the music began, all the other ballerinas started to dance. While I wet my pants.

As the auction progressed, the pieces selling everywhere from $10,000 to $50,000 (holy shit! These people had money), my stomach became more and more knotted. The urge to vomit was getting stronger and stronger.

"Hey," Rose whispered to me, pulling me close to her, "You're Bella-fucking-Swan. You are an incredible artist. You have no reason to be nervous, just go up there and describe the painting for them how you described it for me."

My eyes were wide with fear as I looked at her, she just smiled. She was right, I could do this. I could set aside my perpetual verbal diarrhea for one night and manage to form coherent sentence in front of these people. It was for charity, after all. I couldn't fuck this up for that reason.

"Our next piece comes to us from a young woman who has become a rising star in the Seattle art world," Aro's voice drug me out of my thoughts, "Her work has appeared in several galleries throughout the city and most recently, she was highlighted in the _Seattle Times _for an exhibit that is currently available for viewing in our modern art section here at the museum."

He was talking about me. My heart was beating so fast, I was sure I'd pass out before I even made it to the stage.

"Tonight, she is here to present her piece '2008'," as he spoke, two men emerged from the side of the stage carrying my painting and setting it onto the platform in the center. There it was, for all the world to see, the worst year of my life with a spotlight shining directly on it.

"I'd like to introduce you to my favorite up and coming artist," Aro paused for dramatic effect, "Isabella Swan."

I didn't know if it was my sudden humiliation or the spotlight that hit me, but my body suddenly feels like it was on fire. I felt like I was crawling out of my own skin, wanting to hide under the table. My mother urged me forward, and I stood, careful not to trip over my own feet and give a repeat performance of The Britney Spears Incident. I walked slowly to the stage as the audience clapped. I could hear the hollers from my parents and friends, and if there was any doubt as to where the poor people were seated there wasn't anymore.

"Isabella, lovely to see you again," Aro kissed my cheek as he led me to the podium.

I reluctantly took the microphone from him, my hand trembling slightly as I held it up to my mouth to speak.

"Thank you all for coming out tonight, I know myself and my fellow artists appreciate your participation in such a noble cause," I heard myself saying, an unexpected surge of confidence flowed through me. Rose was right. I was Bella-fucking-Swan.

I positioned myself next to my painting, which looked massive next to me.

"'2008' is a very personal piece for me. It tells the story of finding love, losing that love, the unspeakable pain that comes from a broken heart and finally, getting over and moving on from that love." I turned to look at the canvas, "It took me almost three years to complete it, as each color marks a different phase of where I was in the healing process. You can see that the colors sometimes run from dark back to light back to dark. . .it's what I would describe as a stumble in my path to become whole again. It wasn't until I truly felt like myself after several years that I was able to finish the work and be satisfied with what I had produced."

The room was silent as I finished speaking, and I was unsure if that was a good or bad thing.

"Well," Aro's voice seemed several decibels louder than my own quiet one, "What a beautiful story, thank you for sharing that with us, Isabella. As we all know, some of the best works in history were formed through heartache."

I looked down at my feet, suddenly feeling incredibly vulnerable in front of all the people in front of me.

"Lets start the bidding at a $5,000," he said, turning towards the audience.

"$6,000," a woman's voice spoke up from somewhere in the crowd.

"$8,000," another voice spoke.

Before I knew it, the bidding had reached over $40,000. It was hard for me to digest, a price being put on the painting that I had spent years torturing myself over. I knew, ultimately, that it was for the best. That I needed to get it as far away from me as possible to be truly healed. To let go of it.

"$55,000," Aro's voice echoed throughout the room, "Going once. . .twice. . ."

"One million."

The crowd gasped at the bid placed by a male hidden somewhere in the audience.

"One million?" even Aro can't believe it.

My face was most likely now the same shade as Rose's dress and I was suddenly glad she hadn't let me wear the red.

"Yes, one million," the voice repeated.

"Well," Aro clapped his hands together in excitement, "Let us see who this most generous individual is."

The spotlight searched the audience before landing on a table near the middle of the room. Through my embarrassment, my hearing must've somehow been effected, otherwise I would've recognized the voice. I would know it from anywhere.

Edward Cullen's green eyes bore into me from across the room, the spotlight illuminating his table.

**October 2004**

I had ignored Edward's note on the door, chalking it up to the fact that he was clearly inebriated at the time and couldn't clearly remember what I looked like. There was no way someone that looked like that would find me even remotely attractive.

Then he began showing up outside of my classes. If I had known then how wealthy he was, I would've thought he had been paying someone in the admin office for my personal information. As it was, I was convinced Rose was feeding him information via facebook. I later learned that the latter was actually true, but I'm sure money exchanged hands at one point or another.

So I couldn't say I was exactly surprised when I walked out of my last class one Friday afternoon and there he was, leaning up against a wall outside of my Brit. Lit. lecture hall. That lop-sided grin was playing on his face.

"Wow, what a coincidence," he feigned shock at seeing me, "I'm beginning to think you're stalking me."

I rolled my eyes, continuing past him. He followed, catching up with me quickly.

"What are you doing tonight?" he asked, as we weaved our way through the crowded hall.

"Studying," I replied.

"And tomorrow night?"

"Studying."

I could feel his frustration, I could feel his emotions every time we were in the same room. It was an odd sensation, feeling so utterly connected to someone I barely knew.

"Bella," he took my arm and pulled me off to the side to avoid getting trampled, "Listen, I know you probably think I'm some crazy stalker. . .well maybe I am."

"You're not helping your case at all," I laughed.

"I know," he continued, "I'm new at this."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"You're new at picking up girls?"

"Well no," he answered and I start to walk away, "What I mean is, I'm new at actually caring what the girl's response would be."

I debated whether I should believe him. He was so good-looking, I was having a seriously hard time believing anything he said. In my experience, guys like that were usually just trying to get into your pants. Another notch for their belt.

"Why should I believer you?" I asked, my arms crossing my chest.

"Because I know you felt it too."

**September 2011**

"Why Mr. Cullen, what an honor," Aro's shocked voice summarizes the entire room's feelings.

Edward didn't respond, he just continued to stare at me. Like he couldn't believe I was standing in front of him. Like I wasn't real.

"We are certainly very thankful for your incredible contribution," Aro continued on, his attention focusing back on me, "Thank you Isabella."

I took that as my cue to exit the stage. Chancing one more look over at Edward as I walked off stage, I saw that his face has been shrouded with emotions I was all too familiar with: hurt and rage.

Jesus, it's not like I knew he'd be here. He had absolutely no right to be angry, this was my city. My night. I kept my head down as I made my way back to my table. Everyone at the table was silent, with the exception of an oblivious Jacob who was shoveling food into his mouth. He didn't know about Edward Cullen, it was much too painful for me to keep reliving it by telling new friends in my life. Angela only knew of him because she was privy to Rose's gossip-which really had no filter.

"Hey," my mother came to sit next to me, taking my hand in hers, "It's okay baby."

The only other person who heard her words was Rose, who had my other hand in hers. We sat like that for the remainder of the auction, I felt like if I moved at all everything would fall apart. I just had to keep it together long enough to get out of here.

How dare he buy that painting. It was like he was openly mocking my pain, sneering in my face at my misery. Him and that pretentious bitch he was with at the coffee shop would probably fuck in front of it, just for a good laugh. I had honestly believed that he would never be able to hurt me as much as he did that day in April, so long ago. I was wrong, he knew how to hurt me in ways that no one else did.

I managed to make it through the remainder of the auction in one piece and without sprinting across the room and kicking Edward in the one place I really wanted to kick him. So him and Pretentious Bitch wouldn't be able to produce ridiculously attractive and successful kids. All I wanted to do was go home, lie on the couch and cry while Rose spoon-fed me Cookie Dough Chip ice cream.

"Do you have at least one dance in you for your old man," my dad was standing over me, his hand extended towards me, "I know it's not really your thing, but I figure one won't kill us."

I really didn't want to subject myself to further humiliation by dancing, but I can't resist the hopeful look in my father's eyes. I took his hand and he led us onto the floor, which was filled with other couples as the band began playing a Frank Sinatra cover. The voice of the woman singing was actually quite breathtaking and after a few moments, I couldn't help but get caught up in the music. The song ended and the piano chords began for another song, a modern one that I instantly recognized.

Perfect.

_I heard that you're settled down,_

_That you found a girl and you're married now._

_I heard that your dreams came true,_

_Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you. _

"May I cut in?" Edward's voice startled both my father and myself.

I looked at my dad, silently willing him to tell Edward to screw off. Charlie Swan was too nice for that, however. He was your friendly neighborhood Chief of Police.

"Um, sure," he awkwardly offered my hand to Edward before walking away.

Edward took my hand, his other one settling on my naked back. I fought off the urge to shiver at his touch, not wanting him to see the effect he still had over my body.

_I hate turn up out of the blue uninvited, _

_But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it._

_I had hoped you'd see my face and that'd you'd be reminded,_

_That for me, it isn't over._

"You look rather lovely for a ghost," he mused lightly.

I looked away, unable to meet his gaze. Rosalie was standing off to the side, staring helplessly at me. I knew she was contemplating how big of a scene she'd make if she came over and broke the two of us up. Despite her fierceness, she was actually rather proper when it came to public situations and settings, like the one we were currently in. She'd had to kiss a lot of corporate ass in order for us to secure a loan to open up our shop.

When I still refused to meet his eyes after a few more moments, he spoke gently, his breath tickling my face, "Bella."

I didn't know what to say to him. I had spent years anticipating this moment, when we would come face to face one more time and I could get to say all of the things I had wanted to say to him. About how much he hurt me, how much he destroyed me when he left. How big of an asshole he was.

_Nevermind I'll find someone like you,_

_I wish nothing but the best for you._

_Don't forget me,_

_I beg._

He was moving his hand over my back now, his fingers gliding over my bare skin. I had to bite my lip to keep from gasping at the feeling. I finally met his gaze, his eyes were burning into mine. I had forgotten how green they were, my memory hadn't done his beauty justice. He seemed to just get more good-looking with age.

Bastard.

The song was nearing its end and I had yet to speak to him. I could feel his desperation, it was like no amount of space or distance could change how in tune I was with his emotions. Desperation for what, though? My forgiveness? I would never give him that, he had to know that.

"Bella, please," he said again, resting his head against mine, "I'm sorry."

I could feel the lump forming in my throat, the pain welling up in my chest. I hated myself for letting him get to me but more so, I hated him for thinking those two words would fix everything. That they could erase the guilt he felt for leaving. I wanted nothing more than for him to erase me completely from his memory so we wouldn't ever have to have another encounter like this.

I was so angry that he was apologizing, now after so many years. After we happened to run into each other at some random function. I wanted to scream, _where was that apology when I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't do anything because you broke me?_

_Sometimes it lasts in love,_

_But sometimes it hurts instead. _

"Don't ever speak to me again," I finally whispered back into his ear.

I pulled myself out of his arms and walked away from him, for the second time.

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><p><strong>AN: **Someone asked why Emmett hadn't told Edward that Bella wasn't dead. Bella and Rose have had absolutely no contact with the Cullens after the break-up. Plus I have more info planned for what Emmett has been up to )

Thank you so much for all of the feedback and reviews, they are all very much appreciate and I love hearing your thoughts on the progression of the story and the characters.


	4. Chapter 4

_Why'd you sing Hallelujah,_

_If it means nothing to you,_

_Why'd you sing with me at all?_

_Delicate _- Damien Rice

**Chapter 4**

Our Sunday nights were the equivalent to the normal world's Friday nights. Because we were in retail, the hours Rose and I worked were incredibly inconsistent. We made it a point, however, to always take Mondays off together. Normally we'd spend Sunday nights going to the movies or a late dinner, enjoying the fact that we didn't have to be up at some ridiculous hour the next day. This Sunday, however, Rose decided we were going to a bar and that we were going to get insanely intoxicated. It wasn't something we did often, not since our college years, but it was a necessarily evil every once in a while.

"I have the solution to all of your problems, Bella," Rose said as she put her hair up in a ponytail.

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" I responded, both of us standing in front of the bathroom mirror.

"Tequila," she grinned.

I rolled my eyes, knowing this night was not going to end well for either of us.

"You said that same thing junior year, when I failed my first college exam. I don't remember the problem being solved, but I do remember spending the wee hours of the morning with my head buried in a toilet," I held the curling iron away from my skin, hoping to avoid burning myself again.

"Yeah, but while you were vomiting the entire contents of your stomach into that toilet, were you thinking about that failed exam?"

"Point taken," I laughed.

She smiled, victoriously. We both worked in silence, applying our makeup and finishing our hair. It was such a comfortable silence, neither of us feeling the need for words. Rose was the closet thing I had to a sibling, the unconditional love I felt for her was matched only by the love I felt for my parents. The only other person that I had ever felt that comfortable around was Edward-after years of being with him, I never felt self-conscious or unsure of myself. He made sure of it. He was always complimenting me, always reminding me of his love.

How funny, he had been setting me up all that time. Making me feel so secure in our relationship that I never could've possibly imagined he was just waiting for the day to crush me beyond repair. I wonder if that had been his plan from the beginning; if he had known, even from the start, that one day our differences would separate us. That even when he would reassure me that nothing would ever come between us, if he knew that one day his father's money and status would put an end to us.

"Why are we even bothering to get dressed up? It's Sunday night. We're going to be the only people, aside from the alcoholics, to be at this place," I state the obvious.

"Seriously, Bella, if I have to defend the reason as to why we don't leave the house looking like slobs one more time, I'm going to stab you with my stiletto," Rose sighed in frustration, "How do you expect to lure in a man if you go out there looking like a train wreck?"

"Rose, if a guy is with me just for the simple fact that I wear a certain dress or my hair a certain way, he's not worth it," I said, applying my lip gloss.

"You're right and I absolutely agree," she sprayed hairspray over her ponytail, "But men are idiots and looking like this guarantees that some douchebag will approach us and most likely buy us drinks. And, I don't know about you, but I'm still paying off my student loans and the coffee shop doesn't exactly bring in the dough."

"Touche," I saluted her, "Once again, you, Rosalie Hale, have shown me your mastery in the art of manipulation. How could I ever doubt you?"

"Just don't ever forget how I always take care of you," she pulled me into a hug, "Even when it comes to scoring free booze from unsuspecting males. Now, what time is Jacob picking us up?"

I looked over at the clock on the wall, above the showerhead. Rose and I had hung it up there to make sure we both knew how long we'd been in there. When you get in the shower at 4 a.m. in the dead of winter, you never want to get out of the scorching hot water. We had to install the clock to make sure neither of us stayed in there long enough to use up all the hot water, which basically insured us both ten solid minutes of shower time a piece.

"He'll be here in fifteen minutes," I grabbed the hairspray bottle, applying a solid layer over my hair, "Everyone else is meeting us there."

Ten minutes later there was knock on the door before Jacob let himself in. He was always early and was use to us always being late. We finally gave him a key so he could let himself in and watch television until we were finally ready. It took up precious primping time to walk downstairs and let him in. Plus, Jacob bitched like a woman and if I wanted to hear that, I would simply provoke Rose.

Rose was zipping up the back of my top when Jacob called out my name.

"Bells, come here!" he yelled out from the living room.

"Hold on!" I was in standard pose I always had when Rose zipped me up. Shoulders up and back.

"Jesus, seriously," she grumbled, "When did your boobs get bigger than mine? You're so disproportionate."

"Um, thanks," I said sarcastically.

"In a good way," she smacked my shoulder lightly, "Your waist is so tiny, but your boobs are so big."

"They're not that big," my cheeks turned red.

"They're a lot bigger than they use to be," she finished zipping up the top and stood back, admiring her work.

"Well, considering the fact that I use to be as flat as a board, that's not saying much," I turned to her, "I was a late bloomer, what can I say?"

"You can say thank you Mama Swan, for this most excellent rack," she reached up to squeeze my chest.

I just laughed, swatting her hands away. I was still getting use to my adult body, having been so small for so long. It was insane how much my body had changed, forming curves that I had only dreamed about having. I looked more and more like my mother everyday.

"Beeeellllaaaaa," Jacob whined.

"I'm coming, jeez," I yelled back, walking out of the bathroom and towards the living room.

He was sprawled out on our couch, wearing jeans and fitted black v-neck t-shirt. Jacob was a very attractive man; if I didn't think of him as a brother, I'm sure something would've happened between the two of us by now.

"What?" I snapped.

"Nice tits," he gazed appreciatively at my chest before turning back towards the television, "That guy who bought your painting is on the news."

I rolled my eyes at his "compliment" and went to sit next to him. I grabbed the remote, turning up the volume. Jacob had the television turned onto the local news.

"_. . .in an unprecedented move, Cullen & Co. has bought up Denali Enterprises in one of the most expensive mergers in history."_

The TV showed Carlisle, Edward and a young blonde man standing before a camera crew, smiles plastered on their faces.

"_Edward Cullen, COO and son of Carlisle Cullen, has been chosen to spearhead the merger. Edward is known for his business ventures just as much as for his personal ones. . ."_

Images of Edward flow on the screen.

Edward at the Metropolitan Museum of Art's annual Costume Institute Gala, with some unrecognizable blonde on his arm.

Edward at the premiere of some movie, a movie actress on his arm.

On the cover of _People, _chronicling his ever-changing list of significant others.

A candid, of him and his sister Elizabeth, eating at a fancy restaurant.

I was no stranger to the fact that women everywhere were drawn to Edward Cullen. It was something I witnessed all throughout our relationship. He was always being approached, always being hit on. Even when I would be standing right next to him, it didn't seem to stop other girls from vying for his heart.

**January 2005, New Years**

"We don't have to go out," Edward said from his spot on my bed, "We could just stay here and. . ."

His words drifted off, leaving my imagination to run wild. He looked so incredibly sexy lying on my bed, his black dress pants and white dress shirt. I wanted to pull him over to me by his black tie and have my way with him.

"Stay here and what?" I acted clueless.

"Play Scrabble?" he grinned, running his hands through his hair.

"'Play Scrabble', huh?" I smirked, "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Edward and I had yet to "play Scrabble", but we'd gotten fairly close to it on a number of occasions. It's not that I didn't want to, I had just never been intimate with a guy in that way before and I wanted to make sure Edward was really in this and not just out to get in my pants. Even after months of being together, I was still wary. We couldn't go to Wendy's without some girl practically shoving her number into his pocket.

"Yeah, kids and their crazy lingo," he stretched his arms over his head, stretching.

I laughed, turning back to the mirror to put my earrings in. We were going to a party that his parents were hosting at some fancy hotel downtown. Every New Years, they threw an elaborate event that practically all of Seattle's finest attended. This year, Edward had invited Rose and myself. Rose was hesitant at first, but relented once she heard the words "free booze."

I felt hands slide around my waist as Edward pulled me into his chest. He rested his chin on my bare shoulder, looking at us in the mirror. He had that grin on his face, the one that always made my stomach turn upside down on itself.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered.

I blushed, still not use to his compliments. He was always saying things like that to me, at random times when I least expected them.

"Edward," my cheeks burned.

"Look at you," he insisted, "I can't believe you chose me."

That was the thing he said the most often. Like he couldn't believe that _I _was dating _him._ Like he was somehow out of my league, when it was clearly the other way around.

I turned around in his arms, bringing my hands up to his face. I slid my fingers through his hair, something I know he loved. His eyes closed as he took in the sensation. I stood up on my tiptoes, still barefoot, and placed my lips over his. His tongue immediately slid into my mouth, as he tasted me. His arms went around my back, pushing me into him. Like he couldn't get close enough to me. Our bodies were flush together and I could feel his arousal as the kiss deepened. He lifted me off my feet slightly, bringing me up to his height.

"Seriously?" Rose's voice interrupted us, "Can't you two keep it in your pants until the end of the night?"

Edward laughed, he had grown accustom to Rose's vulgarity. While I wasn't nearly as blunt as she was, years of being around her had turned me into a PG-13 version of her personality. He was use to the two of us spouting off inappropriate comments at the drop of a hat.

Edward had arranged for a car to pick us up outside of the dorm, something Rose and I certainly were not accustom to. Usually we took her ten year old Toyota, as she refused to be seen in my truck. I was still getting use to Edward's money. It's not that he was flashy about it, but it was little things that he did that made me realize how much of a class gap there was between the two of us. The way he would just buy things on a whim, things that I would never be able to afford without some sort of payment plan.

"You ladies ready for the sharks," Edward asked us as we pulled into the hotel parking lot.

"You have it all wrong, Edward," Rose replied, collecting her purse as the driver opened the door, "You mean are the sharks ready for us?"

She winked at us as she exited, we followed behind her. I had always admired Rose's tenacity. She said I was just as stubborn as she, but I never saw it. Well, maybe just a little. I was like Rose Light. The diet version.

"You look incredible," Edward whispered in my ear as we walked into the ballroom.

The room was sensational, an elaborate chandelier hung from the ceiling. There were servers dressed in formalwear, a coat check. . .everything you could possibly imagine being at one of these fancy functions. I'd never felt so out of place in my life.

"Alright, I'm going to circle the room," Rose said, turning to us, "Gotta go find my future husband."

I burst into laughter, which always made her laugh. She was constantly harping on me because of my laugh, telling me it sounded exactly like my mother's. I was forever in denial about that.

"Just remember Rose, the bigger the asshole, the more money they have," Edward advised her.

"In that case, you must be loaded," she smirked before walking off.

He just shook his head, knowing that she was joking. Rose and Edward were always sparring with each other, but I knew it was just innocent. Rose had told me over and over again how great of a guy she thought he was. His brother Emmett, on the other hand, was another story. I'd never met two people so much alike before. Anytime they were in the same room, an argument of some kind was inevitable.

"Lets go say hi to my parents," he grabbed my hand, pulling me closely to his side.

I'd met his parents a few weeks prior, over Christmas break, he'd taken me to his house-scratch that, mansion. I had never been so nervous to meet people in my life before. I'd met the parents of my other boyfriends, but none of them were ever worth ten figures. Carlisle and Esme, as they insisted I called them, were almost as beautiful as the son they'd produced. I could see where Edward and his siblings got their good looks. I'd never seen such a perfect family before.

"Mom, dad, you remember Bella," he said as we approached them.

"How could we forget?" Esme smiled brightly at us, pulling me into a hug.

"Bella, I'm so thrilled you could come," Carlisle was next, lightly wrapping his arms around me, "This might be the first year Edward isn't breathing down our necks every five minutes, telling us how bored he is."

I laughed at the compliment, my face blushing. For someone of such wealth and prestige, Carlisle Cullen was one of the most gentle men I'd ever met. Whenever I was around him, I couldn't help but feel at ease. I think it was a Cullen thing.

"Gee, thanks dad," Edward rolled his eyes, "Lets go eat some pretentious food, Bella."

Rose was already out on the dance floor with some prematurely balding guy, about our age. I made eye contact with her and a look of pure disgust washed over her. Clearly she was not enjoying the way his hands were practically groping her ass.

By the time midnight was approaching, I'd had several glasses of champagne and was clearly feeling the effects of the alcohol. Being around so many of Seattle's wealthiest was a bit daunting and I was trying so hard to fit in, the alcohol was my crutch to feeling more relaxed.

"Come, lets dance," Edward's hand was tracing the length of my arm as we sat at our table.

"Edward, you know I don't dance," I deadpanned.

"Hey Edward!" we both looked up to see a gorgeous blonde standing over us.

"Hey Lauren," he responded, "Lauren this is my girlfriend Bella."

Lauren shot daggers at me, something that I'd grown use to from women; being with Edward, it came with the territory.

"Nice to meet you," she held her hand out.

"Likewise," I took her hand, pasting a smile on my face.

She quickly released it, turning back to Edward.

"I was wondering if you'd like to dance," she gestured towards the dance floor.

"It's almost midnight," he answered.

"Yeah," she smiled, ignorant to what he was getting at.

"I don't want to be with anyone besides Bella at midnight," he looked over at me, his smiling turning genuine as our eyes met.

"Oh, okay," she hesitated, "Well, find me after. You owe me a dance."

He just nodded, but didn't look back at her. Instead, his eyes were on me.

"Just one dance," he pleaded. I couldn't resist him after the way he had just blown off that girl in front of me, after what he had just said to her.

We made our way to the dance floor, his hand on the small of my back as he guided me. Rose was dancing with Emmett, a sight that shocked the hell out of me and Edward. She just shrugged at me, resting her head on his chest as the next song began.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in," Edward sang along to the music as it played.

I laughed, his Elvis impression was quite ridiculous. I wrapped my arms around his neck, playing with the hair that was at the nape of it. His hands slid up and down my back, causing me to shiver at his touch.

"I know exactly what you mean," he whispered to me, in response to my body's reaction to him.

I rested my head against him, taking in the scent of him. He always smelled the same, a scent I could only describe as 'Edward.' With my ear against his chest like this, I could practically hear his heart beating.

"Take my hand, take my whole life too," he sang softly to me, "For I can't help falling in love with you."

I laughed slightly at him, knowing it was just the lyrics of the song and not his actual emotions he was singing. Still, it was exactly what I wanted to hear.

I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, but the next thing I knew the countdown to midnight was starting. There was an emcee standing on the stage, set up at the corner of the room.

"And now the real reason you all drug your money out here tonight," the crowd laughed, "An excuse to make out with someone at midnight."

"Ten." the audience chanted.

I glanced up at Edward, who was looking over at the stage, a huge smile on his face.

"Nine."

I felt my own smile forming, just seeing him happy was enough for me. I didn't need anything else in the world.

"Eight."

His grasp on me tightened, and he pulled me closer to him as his eyes turned to me.

"Seven."

His smile got even bigger when he looked at me, his green eyes were sparkling.

"Six."

I reached up to brush a piece of hair out of his eyes and he took my hand in his, kissing my knuckles.

"Five."

I felt myself blush. Even still after three months of his touch., it never failed to completely take me off guard.

"Four."

His eyes slowly gazed down to my lips.

"Three."

Our foreheads touched.

"Two."

I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he looks back into my eyes. So seriously, so intensely.

"One."

"I love you, Bella," he whispered, before placing his lips over mine.

**September 2011**

"Vodka with water and a lime," I told the bartender.

He just nodded and went to make my drink. I turned around, taking in the crowd of the bar. It was surprisingly busy considering it was a Sunday night, but then I realized it was move in weekend at the university. Classes didn't start until Wednesday, which meant everyone spent the first four days getting completely hammered and screwing each other.

"Well, you're just jumping right in, aren't you?" Angela asked, standing next to me at the bar.

"With the weekend I've had? You bet," I laughed dryly.

She nodded, giving me a sympathetic look as the bartender set our drinks in front of us.

"Nothing quite like having a running in with your ex, who then buys your one piece of art that basically defines your relationship, for a million dollars. Then, naturally, you find out he's going to be in town for a while longer, with some pretentious bitch, making a billion more dollars," she took a sip of her drink, shrugging her shoulders.

"Yeah," I replied, "I hate when that happens."

We both giggle, and then I proceeded to down my entire drink in one big gulp. She doesn't even side-eye me as I order another. It was just one of those nights and she got that. After I grab my new drink, we make our way towards the table that Rose has staked out for us. Jacob, Mike, Jessica and Leah surround the table, all actively involved in a conversation with each other. Rose scoots over to make room for us, putting her arm around my shoulders as I sat.

"Screw men," she lifted up her drink in a cheers.

"Hey!" Jacob disagreed.

"I'll rephrase," she said, "Screw assholes!"

We all agreed this time, clinking our glasses together before taking a sip. I continue to drink mine, taking in all of my friends. Each of them so unique and wonderful in their own way. Even Mike, who was new to the group but quickly finding his niche. Jessica and Leah had been with us since we opened the shop, the first two people we hired, followed by Angela. They were loyal and dependable, but most importantly, they were my friends. Maybe it was the alcohol, but I suddenly felt such a sudden surge of love for everyone at the table.

"Oh, this is my jam," Jacob said as a song started pumping through the speakers, "To the dance floor!"

I hung back as the rest made their way to the floor. I wasn't quite drunk enough for that yet. If there was anything worse than Sober Bella dancing, it was Drunk Bella dancing. Only Drunk Bella didn't have the inhibitions to actually give a shit that she sucked so bad, which only made it all the more worse.

It was funny to watch my friends out there, amongst the college students. Although they didn't look much different, the confidence they exuded showed their maturity. They simply didn't care what they looked like, or how big of dorks they were, they were having fun. Long gone were the days of caring about what other people thought. It was so freeing to finally get to that point in our lives.

And then I heard a voice that brought all of my insecurities flooding back.

"A SkinnyGirl margarita, please," the woman I knew as Tanya was only a few feet away, ordering at the bar.

Even though I was older and more mature and somewhat established, I couldn't help but feel the overwhelming littleness I suddenly felt at seeing the woman who now had Edward Cullen.


	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing _Twilight._

* * *

><p><em>This is the moment that you know,<em>

_That you told her that you loved her, but you don't._

_You touch her skin and then you think,_

_That she is beautiful, but she don't mean a thing to me._

_Tiny Vessels _- Death Cab for Cutie

**Chapter Five**

**BPOV**

**September 2011**

Tanya was everything I was not. She was what you would describe as lithe and petite, tall and with legs for days. She was simply elegant looking, even in the basic jeans and blouse she was currently wearing. She was one of those women you would see in a J. Crew catalogue, or one of the wealthy women who only came to Seattle during the summer time and stayed in their mansions off the Puget Sound.

Suddenly, she was joined by the blonde guy, the one I recognized from seeing on television just an hour earlier. I was close enough that I could easily overhear their conversation despite the loud music.

". . .drug us out to this hole-in-the-wall. I'm afraid if I touch something, I'll get hepatitis," Tanya said to the man, as she cautiously took a sip out of her drink.

"It's right by the university, I guess he use to come here when he was in school," the man answered.

I knew, of course, they were speaking of Edward. Rose and I didn't only come to this bar because of the cheap drinks, we had been coming here since college. We knew the owners; hell, we'd even been bridesmaids in his daughter Nadia's wedding. If the coffee shop was our second home, this was our third. I hadn't even considered the possibility of Edward remembering this place, of even stepping foot inside. It wasn't exactly five-star. Unless, of course, you counted the number of stars next to my name on the wall next to the pool table. I was the reigning pool champ, five years running. Even these frat boys couldn't end my streak.

"Bella," Rose appeared next to me, grabbing my arm, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," I shook my head, clearing it, "Why?"

"Well, usually by this time you've commandeered the pool table from Sigma Sigma Asswipes over there," she pointed in the direction of the table, which was surrounded by a group of Polo-wearing fraternity guys.

She was right, I wasn't being myself. I was moping. But I wasn't about to let Tanya or Edward, for that matter, wherever he was, ruin my one night of freedom for the week.

"Okay, hold on," I swallowed the last of my drink, slamming the glass on the bar, "Remy, another?"

The bartender nodded, already having anticipated my request and setting another drink down in front of me.

"Lets go," I grabbed the drink and pulled Rose in the direction of our friends.

They had set up camp at a small table by the dartboard, with Jacob and Mike well into a game.

"Oh my god," Angela said suddenly, as Rose and I took our places at the table, "Creeper, twelve o'clock."

We both turned to see a guy walking towards us, dark hair and eyes. It wasn't that he wasn't attractive, it's just annoying to have guys approach your table when you're just trying to have a good time with your friends.

"Ladies," he smiled as he came up to the table. Jacob and Mike were way too involved in their game to notice our new guest.

"No," Rose said, bluntly.

"Excuse me?" he looked taken aback at her word.

She just shook her head, turning back to her conversation with Jessica. I took pity on him, letting him sit in the seat next to mine.

"Ben," he said, holding his hand out to me.

"Bella," I shook it briefly, "Sorry about her, she's. . .well, there's really no excuse for her."

He just laughed, waving his hand.

"Hey, if I was a girl and some guy randomly approached me, I'd be the same way," he smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

As I sipped my drink, I took a better look at him. He was an attractive guy, dark hair and dark eyes. His coloring reminded me a little of Jacob's, but without the Native American-ness.

"I actually just wanted to talk to you," his voice was low, forcing me to lean in closer.

His eyes were set on mine, not breaking my gaze. Where as most men would've glanced down at my chest, not thinking I would notice, he kept his focus on my face.

"Me?" I laughed, not buying it for a second, "Are you sure you're not just talking to me because I'm the only one who is being nice?"

"Well, that doesn't hurt," he chuckled, "But I saw you at the bar earlier and was going to approach you then, but your friend came up. She's kind of scary."

"Yeah, I've known her practically my whole life and she still scares the piss out of me," he started coughing, his drink going down the wrong pipe as he attempted to laugh at my words and take a sip of his beer at the same time.

I patted him gently on the back, hoping to help him catch his breath. After a minute, he returned to normal. I can't believe the ease I felt in conversing with him. Usually when a guy tried to hit on me, I made up some excuse and went running in the opposite direction. However, our conversation continued on, as we discussed our lives, where we grew up, what we did for a living. A half hour passed when we heard a commotion coming from the other side of the bar. As students moved to let a group of people through, I saw Tanya at the head of the group, followed by the blonde man, a couple other people I didn't recognize, and finally, Edward. His bronze hair was so unique, I could spot it anywhere without seeing his face and instantly know it was him.

"Who's that?" Ben asked, pointing over to Edward's group.

"No one," Rose chimed in.

"He seems to be attracting a lot of attention for no one," Mike said, taking a swig of his beer, as him and Jacob made their way back over.

"It's that guy, the one who bought Bella's painting," Jacob came to stand next to Mike, "Bella, we saw him on TV earlier, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," I grumbled.

Rose subtlety switched seats, blocking any view of me that Edward could possibly have. I had enough alcohol in me that a run-in with him would probably not be in either of our best interest. I slid down in my seat, trying not to make it noticeable that I was practically halfway under the table. I suddenly wanted to be anywhere but where I was.

"Lets go to the bathroom," Angela smiled at me, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of my seat.

We pushed ourselves through the crowd, towards the restrooms. We were almost there when I heard a small gasp escape Angela's lips. I looked up to see Edward standing directly in our path. He hadn't seen us yet, but one turn of his head and he'd spot us straight away.

"Put your head down," Angela advised me, pulling me close to her to act as my guide as I kept my head to the floor.

We continued on towards him, his voice becoming clearer as we did. He was talking animatedly, the way he always talked when he was telling a story. Edward was the best storyteller I'd ever met, he had a natural way with people. He could make even the most stubborn person smile, no one could resist his charm. It was easy to see why women always swooned over him, the money didn't hurt either.

". . .so the guy is standing there, in front of the entire board," he was saying as we edged closer. Angela passed by without detection, her fingernails were practically digging into my skin, "The whole time he's talking about acquisitions, there's a picture of the Jonas Brothers or Justin Bieber or whichever one of those kids, on the PowerPoint behind him. Apparently his daughter had been playing around on his laptop the night before. . ." I was passing him then, and as I did I felt what was similar to an electric buzz flow throughout my body.

I quickly moved around him, but as I did I felt someone bump into me from the opposite side. I fell into him, our shoulders touched and it was like a static shock. I apologized under my breath and continued on as fast as I could. There was no way he could've possibly have known it was me, but I didn't want to chance it.

"Hey," I said as I caught up with Angela, "I think I'm gonna step outside, I need some air."

"You want me to come with you?" she asked.

"No, I'll be fine. Go back to the table, talk to that Ben guy," I smiled at her, "He seems like a pretty genuine guy."

She just blushed, never one to have a way with men. She went back to the table anyway, Angela was always one to sense when to leave well enough alone. I made my way to the door, pushing it open. The Seattle fall air hit my face, cooling me instantly. It was still warm enough to wear short sleeves, but not so hot that you instantly started sweating the second you walked out the door.

I released a breath I didn't know I had been holding as I leaned against the side of the building. I pushed my hair off my face, holding it up off my neck to get some air back there as well. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes as I took in the night's breeze.

"Your hair is a lot longer," his voice startled me, my eyes springing open.

He leaned against the wall, his head cocked slightly to the aside, that smirk on his lips.

**June 2006**

"Okay, you have to promise me that when I take off my hands, you won't open your eyes," I had my hands covering Edward's eyes the second he walked in the door.

He just laughed, setting his book bag on the ground. He wasn't even phased by my jumping him as soon as he was through the door. Usually it was me attacking him, trying to take his shirt off or smother him with kisses. Every once in a while, however, I had a surprise for him. My surprises weren't anywhere near as impressive as his. I lacked the necessary funds, so I had to get creative.

"I promise," he said, his hand over his heart.

"Okay, keep them closed," I slowly removed my hands, peeking around to make sure his eyes remained close.

I went over to the couch, pulling the case from behind it and setting it on the cushions. Edward and I had exchanged apartment keys long ago, we both felt completely comfortable at each other's places. He was roommates with his brother Emmett and their friend Jasper, while I just lived with Rose. It wasn't unusual for me to come home after a day of classes or work and find him there, plopped down next to Rose on our sofa, watching _One Tree Hill_ and pretending to hate every minute of it.

I stood next to the couch, adjusting my dress before looking up at him. His eyes were still closed, but his smile was getting bigger by the second.

"Okay, open them," I grinned, excited to finally feel like I had something equal to give him for everything that he gave me, "Happy birthday!"

His eyes went to me immediately, taking in my brown espadrille sandals, going up my bare legs, up the length of my white sundress, to my shoulder length brown hair before finally settling on my eyes.

"You got your hair cut," he smiled, reaching over to run his fingers through my hair.

"No, silly," I laughed, pushing his hand away, "Well, yeah, a few inches, but that's not it."

"You're all the present I need," he pulled me into his arms, kissing my forehead.

"Edward, stop," I tried to step away from him but his grip tightened, "I'm not the gift."

He rested his forehead against mine, looking in my eyes as he said, "You are my gift."

"You're so cheesy," I smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

I lost myself temporarily, the feeling of his lips against mine had a tendency to do that. He lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist. His hands slid up my thighs, slowly cupping my ass.

"No underwear," he whispered against my mouth, "Is that my present?"

That brought me out of my Edward haze, bringing me back to reality.

"That's your bonus present," I unwrapped myself from him as he set me back on the floor, "This is your real present."

I stepped away from the couch so that he could see the case behind me. He looked at it then back to me, his mouth hanging wide open.

"Is that seriously an Epiphone?" he walked over to the case, running his fingers over it.

"It's the one you wanted, isn't it?" I asked self-consciously.

"Yeah, how did you know?" he opened the case, carefully taking the acoustic guitar out.

"Emmett," I answered, "He told me you've been drooling over it for months but haven't pulled the trigger on purchasing it."

He continued to stare at it, a grin taking up his whole face. He sat on the couch, bringing the guitar onto his lap. He strummed on it softly, tuning it as he did.

"Baby, how did you afford this?" he looked up at me through his eyelashes, concern present.

He knew my financial position was nowhere near his, that I had to work part-time in addition to my scholarship just to be able to afford rent and food.

"Edward," I rolled my eyes, "You don't ask that question to someone who just bought you a gift, it's not polite."

"Bella, seriously," he set the guitar down, "This is too much."

Truth was, I couldn't afford the guitar. Not on my own. But I had picked up extra shifts at the restaurant and, thanks to Rose's connections, had set up a payment plan with the owner of one of the music shops in town. It was all worth it though to see that look on Edward's face when I gave it to him.

"Edward," I said, moving towards the couch, taking a seat that left me essentially straddling his lap, "Don't worry about it."

"It's too much-" I silenced him, placing my fingers over his lips.

"Play me a song," I whispered.

He kissed me gently as I eased myself off his lap, taking the seat next to him. He picked the guitar back up, taking a few practice strokes before beginning to play. I instantly recognized the melody, because it was one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite movies.

"Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high," he sang, "There's a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby."

"Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue," I sang the next lyrics, "And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."

I rest my head on his shoulder as he finishes the song, the sound of his voice and the guitar filling the small apartment.

This was the moment I realized that I wanted to spend the rest of my life singing with him.

**September 2011**

I bit the bottom of my lip, a nervous habit I'd had my whole life. His smirk told me he remembered the habit very well.

"Well, a lot of things can change in four years," I remarked, releasing my hair from my hands, allowing it to fall down my back, settling just a couple inches above my butt . We both knew, however, that I wasn't referring to my hair.

"Has it been four years?" he asked, taking a drink out of the beer in his hands.

He was dressed down, not wearing the typical suit and tie I usually saw him wearing on television and in magazines. He was in jeans and a white t-shirt, a black blazer over top. He looked just as good. Bastard.

"Yep," I answered, looking out onto the street.

There were students walking everywhere, the night at its peak. I watched as a young group of girls walked passed, giggling as they all snuck glances in Edward's direction. I envied them, not for their youth but for their naiveté. How they could look at a boy, a man like Edward and see so many possibilities. Funny, as I looked at men and saw all of the ways they weren't Edward. Always finding their flaws.

"Remember when we were that age?" he asked, looking at another group of students who were singing some Journey song at the top of their lungs as they made their way into the bar.

"I remember a lot of things," I responded, numbly.

I could feel his eyes on me then, knew he was looking at me with that look, like he was trying to figure something out. It was the same look he use to give me when he knew I was mad at him, but didn't know what for.

"Why did Rose lie?" his question caught me off guard, "About you dying, why would she lie about that?"

I felt the frustration within me grow. Just his mere presence brought forth feelings in me that had lain dormant for years, the hurt and rage that I had buried deep into the bottom of my heart.

"Why do you care?" I asked, turning sharply toward him.

"Do you know how it felt?" his voice rising slightly, "To hear that you had died? To think that it had happened and no one bothered to tell me? And then to see you up there, on that stage. That it had all been a lie and that you two were laughing about it at my expense?"

I just stared at him, unflinching in my glare.

"Do you know what that did to me?" he asked, stepping closer to me, "To think that I had lost. . ."

He stopped himself, as if realizing something. Anger was boiling inside of me now, that he had the nerve to talk to me like this.

"I don't owe you anything, Edward Cullen," I heard myself saying, the words coming out of my mouth before I could stop them, "YOU dumped me, or did you forget that? YOU promised that you would never hurt me. You asked me to live with you and on the day that we were suppose to move in together, you told me that you finally woke up and realized I wasn't good enough for you. What makes you think I would give one iota to caring about how YOU feel?"

Even as I said them, I knew the words were a lie. I did care about hurting him and I hated myself for it. No matter how much he hurt me and clearly didn't care, I couldn't do the same.

"You don't understand," his voice was different now, no longer filled with anger. It sounded broken somehow.

"No, you don't understand," I placed my hand on his chest, "I've spent the past four years watching you on television and in magazines, every week with a different girl, hearing about how you fuck anything with a vagina and a pulse. You obviously haven't thought of me in the past four years to fall for and believe, so easily, that I've been dead this whole time. You mean absolutely nothing to me and I wish you had never reappeared in my life. I want nothing more than for you to take your bitch girlfriend and go back to London and never think of me ever again."

The look on his face at that second was like one I had never seen before. It was like I had literally taken a knife and plunged it directly into his chest, the spot where my hand still was placed. I removed it quickly, having forgotten that it was there.

"Bells," Jacob interrupted, and I wondered if he could feel the tension cackling in the air, "Everything okay?"

Edward turned to look at him, quickly masking his face. The shock and hurt was no longer evident at all, instead he looked the picture calm.

"Everything's fine," I responded, my voice returning to its normal pitch.

Jacob walked over to us, putting his arm around my shoulder as he stood next to me.

"Oh hey man," he said, looking at Edward, "You bought Bella's painting the other night."

"Yes, I was just thanking Mr. Cullen," I said, hoping Edward wouldn't say anything to Jacob about our history.

"Yeah man, that was really cool of you," Jacob smiled his mega-watt smile, "I'm Jacob, by the way. Bella's f-"

"Fiancée," I cut in, pinching Jacob's side subtly, hoping he'd take the hint and play along.

"Fiancée?" Edward repeated.

Jacob just looked at me briefly before speaking, "Yeah, it took me a couple years but I finally put a ring on it."

I could hug Jacob right now, even with the cheesy joke. I could always count on him to come through for me.

"We should go back inside, everyone's asking for you," he said, then turned back to Edward, "It was great to meet you."

He kept his arm around me as we walked back inside. I couldn't help myself and turned back to look at Edward. He had his hand in his hair, and he was looking furiously at the ground as though it would give him the answer to whatever question was floating through his mind.

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><p>Thoughts? Comments? Anyone wanna throw tomatoes at me?<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

I know I've been awful in my updating and I truly apologize. Now that I'm settled in my new home, I promise I will update way more often. I'm almost done with the next update of my other story, _Last Beautiful Girl_, too. So look for it sometime tomorrow.

Also, thank you so much to **AmeryMarie **for recommending this fic! All the sudden interest definitely inspired me to get my butt in gear and start updating.

As always, I own nothing _Twilight._

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><p><em>Maybe different but remember,<em>

_Winters warm where you and I_

_Kissing whiskey by the fire_

_With the snow outside._

_Stay or Leave - _Dave Matthews Band

**Chapter Six**

**BPOV**

**January 2005**

I pulled the blanket tighter around me, unable to get warm despite the fire we had going.

"Are you still cold?" Edward asked, coming into the room, two cups of hot chocolate in hand.

"Freezing," I responded, eagerly holding out my hands for the mug.

He placed them on the coffee table in front of us, taking a seat on the couch next to me. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him. I leaned into him, welcoming the warmth his body was giving off.

"We shouldn't have stayed out so long, you're probably going to get sick," he said, rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

We had spent the day outside, meeting up with friends to go sledding. It was Martin Luther King Jr. weekend, so we were taking advantage of the three-day weekend as much as we could.

"Babe," I started, "I will be fine. I'm not sick, just cold."

I freed my hands from the confines of the blanket and placed them on his cheeks.

"Jesus," he jumped, taking my hands in his and rubbing them to create friction and heat, "You're like an icicle."

He reached over to hand me the cup of cocoa, taking a sip from his own mug as he did. He set the cup back on the table and looked over at me. It was then that I saw he had a chocolate milk mustache.

"You want to watch a movie?" he asked, obliviously.

I bit my lip, trying to keep from laughing. He was looking at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. I couldn't help but think how adorable he looked.

"What?" he questioned when I continued to stare at him.

"You have a chocolate milk mustache," I broke into a giggle.

A giant smile came over his face, his eyes lighting up. Before I could react, he was pushing me down onto the couch, with him lying on top of me. He pressed his lips to mine, I could feel the warm liquid above his lip.

"There," he said, pulling away, "Now we both do."

I laughed, licking the chocolate off my face before playfully punching his arm.

"I know something we could do that would warm me up," I said to him, reaching over to wipe a spot above his mouth that he missed.

"Naked Twister?" he asked.

"Well," I moved from the cushion so that I straddling his lap, "I guess you could call it that."

He looked at me, confused. I was finally ready to have sex with him, had been for weeks now. Ever since New Years, I realized I wanted my first time to be with him. I think I actually knew it from the moment we met, I had just been too scared to admit it to myself. I had been hesitant, sure that he would come to his sense one day and break up with me. I was terrified of the hurt.

"Bella," he said softly, looking into my eyes.

I smiled at him, placing my lips over his. His kiss was hungry but controlled, he never once pressured me and that meant more to me than he would ever know. His hands played with the hair at the nape of my neck, gently massaging my scalp.

I pulled away, moving off the couch to stand in front of him. I reached my hand out to him. He just looked at me, unsure of what I was doing.

"Lets go to your bedroom," I answered.

He placed his hand in mine, following me into his room. After shutting his door, he turned to look at me.

"Are you sure?" he asked, always being so careful with me.

"Yes," I reassured him.

A smile slowly crept up on his face, as he stepped closer towards me. We stood, staring into each other's eyes. It wasn't his first time, I knew that. He had been completely honest with me from the beginning, there had been two girls before me. A high school girlfriend and some other girl he had met at freshman orientation. He also knew that, aside from fooling around with a guy I dated in high school, I had relatively no sexual experience prior to him. That never mattered with him, he was continually patient with me, always making sure I was okay with whatever we did.

I reached for the bottom hem of his shirt, slowly sliding it up. He raised his arms up, helping me to take his shirt off. It wasn't the first time I'd seen him naked, but every time, I still got those nervous butterflies in my stomach. I put my hand on his chest, over where his heart was. His skin was smooth and soft.

He took my face in his hands, kissing my forehead before reaching down to take off my shirt. He unclasped my bra, tossing it onto the floor with our shirts. I stood before him, half-nude, as his eyes looked me over.

"You're so perfect," he whispered.

His lips were back on mine as we moved to the bed, his weight pressed onto me. I wasn't cold anymore, I was on fire. His touch ignited my skin, reacting to him in a way that it had never reacted for that boy in high school. He ran his hand along my torso, his lips on my neck, my collar bone, my breasts, my stomach and back up. He reached down to my jeans, stopping when he got to the button. He didn't say anything, but looked up into my eyes, making sure it was okay to continue. I nodded, encouraging him.

He undid the button, dragging the zipper down as well. Sliding them down my legs, he pulled them off. I sat up, reaching for his jeans. We were left in our underwear, pressed against each other. Both of us caught up in the moment, but wanting to remember every second of it.

I could feel his arousal against me, his boxers the only barrier between us. I was scared, but I was ready. I didn't need foreplay. Hell, we'd already had almost four months of that.

I looped my fingers around the waistband of his underwear, removing them and freeing him. He reached for mine, which were practically ruined at this point anyway due to how turned on I was. I always was with him. I laid on the bed, raising my hips as he slid them down my legs to help him. Now fully naked, he admired my body, a smile playing on his lips. He positioned himself between me, lining us up. I wasn't sure what to expect, just knowing that it would probably hurt.

"Hey," he said, his thumb grazing my cheek, "I love you. So much."

"I love you," I whispered back.

He entered me, and the pressure was so great, I couldn't help but cry out.

"Baby," he said, stopping, "We don't have to do this."

A single tear slid down my cheek, he kissed it away.

"No, Edward," I started, "I want this."

**September 2011**

"Why did you tell that guy I was your fiancée?" Jake asked once we were back inside the bar.

"He asked for my number, I just wasn't interested," I replied, hoping he'd drop it.

He seemed to accept this, and went back over to finish his dart game with Mike. I looked back over my shoulder, Edward's eyes found mine as he entered. I didn't know if he believed me about Jacob, especially after fake death thing. It bothered me that I cared so much.

"There she is!" Rose shouted at me from the pool table, "Get your ass over here, Swan. We've got the table."

I made my way to the girls, still feeling Edward's eyes burning into me. They stayed on me for the first half of the game. I didn't reciprocate the stare, but I knew he was looking at me. I could feel it.

"Jeez Bella, that's like the fourth ball you've missed," Angela remarked, "Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"You are off your game tonight," Rose joined in, coming to stand next to me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I shook my head, trying to clear it, "I'm just not feeling that great, I think I'm going to head out."

"Okay, yeah, let me just grab our stuff," Rose moved to go back to our table.

"No!" I yelled to her, "You guys stay, have fun."

She looked at me, skeptically.

"Seriously, Rose. I just want to go home, take a bath and pass out. You guys hang out here, enjoy your night off," I smiled, hoping she'd stay.

"Alright," she replied slowly, "But you'll call me if you need anything at all?"

"Of course!" I laughed, "I'm just gonna go relax, maybe listen to some Sarah McLachlan. Maybe eat the rest of the pint of Cookies & Cream you've got in the fridge."

"On one condition," she put her hands on either side of my shoulders, "Promise me that you're not going to just eat the Oreos out of the ice cream and leave the rest in there for me to find."

She knew me too well.

"I promise, I won't do that. . .again."

I said my goodbyes, reassuring everyone that I was fine, just really tired. I grabbed my purse, pushing my way through the crowd towards the door. Normally there were cabs waiting around to drive all the drunk asses home, but none were there yet. I supposed it was kind of early in the night for them to be here. I debated calling one, but then decided to just walk home. It was a nice enough night and it wasn't like the apartment was that far away. Plus I could really use the time to think and clear my head.

I made it three blocks when I realized there was a black Audi following behind me. I reached for the mace that was in my purse, that my father had insisted I carry with me at all times the second I moved out on my own. I slid it out of my purse, making sure to not tip off the person following me. At the next intersection, the car stopped next to the curb, the light red. I turned, holding up the mace as I do, aiming it towards the opened driver's window.

"Alright, asshole, what do you want?" I had my finger prepped to spray when I realize I was aiming it at Edward.

"Wait!" he said , holding his hands up.

"Jesus, Edward, you scared the shit out of me!" my heart was pounding so hard, but I wasn't sure if it was because of the scare or his presence.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I saw you leave the bar, I just wanted to make sure you got home okay," he said, running his hand through his hair.

I laughed, "Unbelievable."

"Look, I'm sorry," he began, "I know I have no right to even speak to you, I just feel like I owe you an explanation."

"You owe me nothing, Edward. Seriously, I'm fine. Yeah, it really sucked for a really long time, but I'm fine now. You don't have to feel guilty or whatever," I paused, adjusting my foot in the heels I was now beginning to regret wearing, "Lets just go back to pretending like the other doesn't exist, okay?"

"I can't," his eyes were wide, exasperated, "I can't do that anymore."

I just stood there, looking at him, waiting for some sort of explanation for his behavior.

"Look, will you at least let me drive you home?" he pleaded.

I stared at him, then looked at the darkened sidewalk ahead of me. Neither looked particularly inviting.

"Alright," I resigned, "But only because I don't think I can walk another minute in these shoes."

He laughed, unlocking the doors as I made my way over to the passenger side. He started in the direction of the coffee shop and I realized that I'd never actually told him where I lived.

"You've changed a lot," he said suddenly.

"You mean, I have boobs now?" I deadpanned.

"No. Well yeah, but that's not what I meant," he stuttered, "You just seem, I don't know, harder. Does that make sense?"

I just stared ahead at the road, not sure how to respond. I could've made a truly awful remark, making him feel even worse just so he understood how much I truly hated him. I didn't have anymore fight left in me, however; I was emotionally exhausted. Just being in his presence took it all out of me. It wasn't fair that he could affect me like this, it just made me even more angry.

"I'm just a lot more careful about who I put my trust in now," I finally answered.

He didn't say anything, but he knew exactly what I was getting at. Silence filled up the car as he drove. He must have sensed my unease, as he reached over and turned on the radio. It was a song I instantly recognized, one that was popular back when we were in school. How fitting.

"It's up here on the right," I said when the café came into view.

He pulled up to the curb, shutting off the car. I'm not sure what he expected from me, but whatever it was, I wasn't going to give it to him. I placed my hand on the door handle, ready to make my escape. I felt his hand on my shoulder, his touch practically burning into my skin. I turned to face him, and instantly regretted it. His face looks exactly like how it did that day in the apartment, all those years ago.

"Remember we use to dance and everyone wanted to be you and me?" he asked, quoting the Dave Matthews song that I had recognized on the radio, "I want to be too."

"I don't," I opened the door, stepped out and didn't look back.

**January 2005**

I felt the soft brush of fingers across my back, my eyes slowly fluttered open. Edward lied next to me, his eyes following the movements of his fingers. I watched him for a few moments, taking in the line of his jaw. Memorizing the pout of his lips.

"Hey," I whispered.

He smirked at me, leaning over to kiss my nose.

"Morning beautiful," he replied, "How are you feeling?"

I turned to lie on my side, a slight dull pain aches between my thighs.

"A little sore," I admitted.

He brushed the hair off my forehead, tucking it behind my ears. He was looking at me in a way that he'd never looked at me before.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something in my nose?" I buried my head in the pillow, self-consciously.

He just laughed, pulling me closer to him.

"No silly," he turned my head towards his, "I just feel. . .I don't know, I can't describe it."

I smiled at him, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"Complete," I finished for him.

I rested my head on his chest, feeling his inhales and exhales. Hearing the beating of his heart.

"I love you," he said, always reassuring, always making sure I know his feelings.

"You're not too bad yourself," I shrugged.

He rolled on top of me, pining me underneath him.

"Now you're gonna get it," he said, his hands coming up to my sides, tickling me.

I squirmed, trying to get away. He knew how much I hated to be tickled, but constantly used it as a means to torture me.

"Alright, alright," I gasped, "I love you too!"

"I'm glad that I have to torture you to get you to say it," he chuckled, kissing along my jaw line.

I lied there, taking it all in. I'd never felt like this before, this much apart of another person. I'd heard about it, seen it portrayed in really bad Kate Hudson movies, but I never understood it until that moment.

"Edward, will you promise me something?" I asked, running my fingers up and down his back.

"Anything."

"Promise me it will always be like this."

He pulled away, propping himself up on his elbows.

"I promise," he said.

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><p>Let me know what you think. And thank you for your patience.<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

I own nothing _Twilight._

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><p><em>I know we can never look back.<em>

_I Will Buy You A New Life - _Everclear

**Chapter Seven**

**BPOV**

**May 2006**

"None of this is making sense," I slammed my head down on the library table, causing the cans of Coke next to me to wobble.

"You're telling me, I've been reading and re-reading the same sentence in this book for the past forty-five minutes," Rose said, closing the textbook in front of her, "We need a break."

I nodded in agreement. We'd been at the campus library for almost four hours now, attempting to cram for finals. I was slowly beginning to lose my sanity.

"Lets go get ice cream!" Rose said loudly, clapping her hands together and earning us death glares from everyone else around us.

"I second that, lets go," I grabbed my backpack, trying to make as little noise as possible but failing miserably.

After being shhh'd out of the building, we made our way over to the quad. It was an incredible Spring day in Seattle, the sun was out and the air was warm. It seemed to pull every co-ed out of the hibernation they'd spent the past six months burrowing themselves in. There were boys playing Frisbee on the green, a few people taking advantage of the rays and laying out on the sand volleyball courts; and then there was a group of my favorite type of people: sorority girls. Forming what appeared to be a V-formation and wearing a ridiculous amount of pink, they were passing out flyers to students as they walked by.

"What do you think they're doing?" I asked as we made our way towards them, as they were the only thing separating us from the food court.

"Passing out Natural Light coupons?" Rose retorted, "Raising STD awareness?"

"Free boob job vouchers?" I added.

It wasn't that I hated sorority girls, I was friends with quite a few of them in fact. It was these particular sorority girls: Charlotte Moore and Lauren Mallory. Despite how big campus was, I couldn't seem to avoid either of them. It's like they had some sort of Bella Radar in which they were able to seek me out at the drop of a hat. And be total bitches to me. For no other reason than the fact that I was dating Edward Cullen, the boy whom both of them thought they were meant to be with.

"You know what, maybe we don't really need ice cream," I said suddenly, dreading any confrontation with the two of them.

There was only a week left of classes before summer break, and I really didn't have it in me to deal with Tanya and Lauren on top of studying for finals.

"No way," Rose grabbed my arm, practically dragging me ahead, "I'm not going to let those two bitches keep me from my frozen Snickers bar."

I kept my head down, hoping they wouldn't see me.

"Bella Swan," I predictably heard Charlotte's voice in front of me.

I pasted a smile on my face, looking up into her ridiculously beautiful face. I hated her with a vengeance, but I wasn't about to let her see it.

"Charlotte, Lauren, how are you guys?" I asked cheerfully, all the while feeling the heat from Rose's death glare coming from next to me.

"Just trying to make it through this last week," Lauren, the less bitchy of the two, replied.

Charlotte was giving me a once-over, no doubt judging my jeans and hoodie get-up. Whatever, I was practically living out of the library. I didn't have time to dress cute. Or brush my hair. Or shower.

"We're handing out flyers for our End of the Year party," Charlotte said, disgust evident in her voice, "I invited Edward yesterday, after English."

"Oh?" this time I couldn't hide the surprise. Edward hadn't mentioned anything to me about the party.

"I guess he didn't mention it," she laughed, pouncing in on the moment, "Trouble in paradise?"

"Shut up, Charlotte," Rose chimed in, stepping in between us, "Lets go, Bella."

"It's not surprising," Lauren twirled a piece of her blonde hair around her finger, "He's probably tired of slumming it."

I wanted to reply, but my mouth hung open in shock.

"For real, Bella," Charlotte started, "Did you really think you two had staying power? His father is like a billionaire. You're from some po-dunk town called Spoons."

"Forks," I squeaked.

"It was only a matter of time before he realized he should be with someone a little more. . . suitable for his lifestyle," her perfect lips formed a perfect smirk.

"You know what Charlotte, you're a real bitch," it's Rose who said what I so badly wanted to.

This didn't phase either of them, however. Lauren just laughed, clutching the fliers to her chest. Charlotte just rolled her eyes, clearly not bothered or amused.

"Whatever, you know I'm right," she barely got the words out before Rosalie's fist connected with her face.

It seemed to happen in slow motion, Lauren's shrieks, Charlotte falling to the pavement. The satisfactory grin that overtook Rose's face.

"See ya at the party!" Rose said cheerily, pulling me away by the arm.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Despite Rose's reassurances, I couldn't shake what Charlotte had said. For the rest of the week, all I could hear were her words, resonating in my head. Every time I was with Edward, all I could see were our differences. The way he would spend money without a second thought. The way he spent his afternoons studying and playing guitar, while mine were spent studying and working so that I could continue to afford studying. He literally didn't have a care in the world, while I was busy trying to pass all of my classes and make sure I had a summer job lined up back in Forks so that I could have money come Fall Quarter.

None of this had bothered me before, had I been so oblivious for the past year and half? How stupid was I to think that this would actually work?

It was the night of the End of the Year party when everything blew up in my face.

Edward picked me up at nine o'clock. His usual charming, perfect self, everything seemed normal. Inside my head, though, my thoughts were so jumbled I couldn't think straight.

"Babe," he said, before we had exited his car to enter the party, "Where are you tonight?"

"Huh?"

"You're somewhere else," he replied, "I keep talking to you, but it's like you're not even here."

I looked down at my hands, the way they were tangled together, All sweaty and shaking slightly.

"Do you ever wonder if maybe you made the right choice?" I asked, my voice reflecting my nervousness.

"What do you mean?" he ran his fingers through my hair, tucking it behind my ear.

"Us," I gestured from him to me, "That I was the right choice."

He smiled then, suddenly understanding my weird mood.

"Bella, you weren't a choice," he said softly, "I didn't choose you, if anything, you chose me."

He looked at me with a look I couldn't understand, one that did nothing to soften my worries.

"Look, I don't know what happened, you've been acting weird all week. I need you to know that you are everything to me," he looked ahead, out the window, towards the party, "None of this matters if I don't have you."

He didn't look at me, but I could see the way his lip quivered slightly. I wanted to believe him so badly, but all I could think about were Charlotte's words. My fears, my doubts, all of them she had voiced.

"Lets go to the party," I said, numbly.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes finding mine. He wanted me to reassure him, for me to say that we were okay. . .but I couldn't. Not when I felt so confused.

I lost Edward almost immediately after we entered the house. There were so many people everywhere, it was impossible to keep track of anyone. I shoved my way through the crowd, hoping to spot a familiar face. I saw a couple people I recognized from some of my classes, but no one I would consider stopping to talk to. I grabbed a cup of beer from the keg, sipping it as I made my way out towards the deck. It was less crowded outside, but still enough so that I felt like I was being suffocated. I pushed my way down the deck stairs, walking further into the backyard of the house. Finally I felt like I could breathe again.

The Spring sky was so clear, I could see all of the stars for the first time all year. It was a perfect temperature, not too cold or too warm.

". . .come on, you can stop pretending. . ." I heard a voice say from the group of trees behind me.

I sighed, realizing I wasn't going to get any alone time any time soon. I started towards the house when I heard a familiar voice.

". . .Charlotte, no. . ." It was Edward.

I stepped closer to the trees, trying to make them out in the darkness.

"You told me Lauren passed out back here and you needed help carrying her back inside," he said, his voice clearer as I got closer, "Are you screwing with me again?"

I could see them both then, the moonlight igniting their silhouettes. Edward stood with his arms crossed over his chest, Charlotte had her hands on his shoulders.

"It's just you and me out here, no one has to know anything," she smiled as she leaned towards him.

I gasped, my hand coming up to my mouth. The shock so great, it felt like my heart was literally stopping in my chest. Edward's eyes met mine, surprise evident.

"Bella," he said so softly it was almost a whisper.

"Bella?" Charlotte repeated.

I turned around, preparing to run back to the house. Edward's hand is on my arm so fast, it seemed impossible that he could've gotten to me so quickly.

"Bella," he said again, "It's not what you think."

I looked down at his hand, slowly trailing up to his eyes.

"I know," and I did know. I knew Edward would never cheat on me.

His face relaxed then, turning into a relieved smile as Charlotte sighed heavily and stormed off back in the direction of the house.

"She practically lured me out here," he pulled me into a hug, "That girl has some screws missing."

I leaned into him, breathing in his scent. The smell that could only be described as 'Edward.' I've never felt safer than I did in his arms. It was like nothing could ever hurt me with him near.

"I think we should break up," I heard myself saying.

**October 2011**

"Is this the Goo Goo Dolls?" I asked Rosalie, over the noise of the speakers and espresso machine.

"Yeah, I made a 90s throwback CD for us to listen to today," she replied, starting a batch of decaf in one of the coffee urns.

It was another early morning at the coffee shop, Rose and I were setting up for the morning rush. It was still calm inside and outside the shop, a little too early for the masses to be up. This was my favorite time of day to be in the café; we could just focus on setting everything up and enjoy whatever mixed CD Rose put together the night before. One of the perks of being the owners was that we got to pick the music that played. Although, I had to put my foot down when Rose got into her hardcore rap phase. It was a rough month.

"Did you already set up the registers?" I asked, filling up the bean hoppers on the machines.

"One step ahead of you, I already counted and set them all up," she beamed at me.

"You're far too chipper for 4 a.m.," I rolled my eyes, making myself an Americano, my second for the morning.

Three hours and several Third Eye Blind songs later, the shop was buzzing with activity. Angela was manning the front register while I made drinks at the bar. Rose was being her typical outgoing self, walking around the café and interacting with customers. She was much better at it than I was, as last time I threw an iced latte in the face of a guy who groped me while he waiting for his coffee. After that we made an executive decision that I shouldn't be allowed on the other side of the counter during business hours.

I felt his presence before I saw him, it was like the air immediately started crackling with tension. I kept my head down, focusing on the drinks I was making. It was probably not best to get distracted while I was handling hot liquids.

"Skinny vanilla latte," Angela called a drink to me, forcing me to raise my head.

Tanya was standing at the counter, hand on hip. Edward was behind her, with Emmett in tow. It was like he was going out of his way to piss me off at this point. This was Seattle, there were hundreds of other coffee shops on every corner. I don't care if Denali Enterprises was across the street, I'm sure there was a Starbucks close enough by.

"Bella?" Angela said to me, knocking me out of my daze.

Everyone in line was staring at me, waiting for me to confirm that I heard the drink she'd called off.

"Skinny vanilla latte," I repeated back to her, my eyes going back to the bar in front of me.

I used decaf espresso for the woman's drink. It gave me a sick sense of satisfaction knowing that she'd probably have a caffeine headache in the next few hours. It was my passive-aggressive way of dealing with pain in the ass customers.

"Hey," Edward's voice came from in front of me.

He was standing there on his own while Tanya was talking animatedly on her cell phone and Emmett was staring intently at his phone's screen, reading an email or a text.

"Hi," I said back politely.

"How are you?" he asked gently.

"Never better," my response was short and biting.

There was an awkward pause.

"I'm going back to London tonight," he said, running his hand through his hair.

"Oh?" was my lame response.

I didn't know how to feel. Happy? Joyous? I knew that truthfully, however, there was a part of me-though very deeply repressed-that felt a tinge of sadness at his words.

"We're going back to finish some details on another pending merger, a smaller one," he crossed his arms over his chest, staring at me intently.

"Yeah?" another lame response.

He just nodded, his face falling slightly at my coldness. There was no way he couldn't feel the anger radiating off me. Anger that, even after everything, he still chose to come into MY coffee shop.

"What are you doing here, Edward?" I finally worked up the courage to ask, my voice so low I'm not sure he heard me at first.

"Tanya likes your lattes," he pointed towards the redhead.

I give him my best "yeah, right" look.

"I wanted to see you one more time before I left, I was hoping we could talk," he scooted closer to me, or as close as he could get with the counter between us, "Please Bella, I really need to talk to you."

My resolve was wearing. I really wanted to hear his explanation but I knew myself well enough to know that if I let him in even slightly, everything I'd spent the past four years building up would crumble.

"I'm kind of busy right now," I bent down, grabbing another carton of milk from the fridge below the bar.

He continued to stand there, looking at me with those eyes. The same ones he'd used on me in college whenever I was mad at him, the same ones that always made me give in. It was different now. I was different now.

"I'll be back in town in two weeks," he started, "I thought maybe we could meet up for dinner."

"Wouldn't that upset your girlfriend?" I nodded towards Tanya.

"Tanya?" he looked confused, "She's not my girlfriend, she's just an associate."

As much as I hated it, my heart jumped at bit at his words.

"Yeah, maybe," I said, distracted by the growing number of cups that were being stacked on the bar by Angela.

"Really?" he looked so hopeful, like a little boy. I didn't have it in my heart to tell him there was no way I would meet him for dinner.

"Yeah, sure, you know where to find me," I shrugged my shoulders. Let him believe there was a chance for now. I had two weeks to work up the nerve to actually reject him.

"Bells!" Emmett's loud voice boomed across the café.

I couldn't help the smile that overtook my face, Emmett had always been one of my favorite people. He was like the big brother I never had.

"Em, hey, how are you?" The warmth that flowed into my voice was vastly different from the cold tone I'd used on Edward just moments ago.

"I'm great, kid. How the hell are you?" his looming figure overpowered Edward's, it always had.

"I'm good," I smiled, "Just slinging coffee."

"Which is delicious, by the way," he held up the cup he had in his hands.

"We have to go," Tanya interrupted the moment, "James needs us back at the office for some follow-up paperwork."

She looked at the two of them and then at me, giving me a once-over. I instantly felt like I was back in college all over again, feeling the disapproving stare of sorority girls everywhere.

"Tanya, this is my-" Edward started.

"-college friend. I went to school with Emmett and Edward," I finished for him.

She pasted on an obviously fake smile, "Oh, nice to meet you. Can we go now?"

She walked towards the door, Emmett following behind her after a quick wave. Edward continued to stand there in front of me.

"I'll see you soon?" he asked, that hopeful look still in his eyes.

"Yeah, soon," I said back to him, my face void of all emotion.

He gave a small wave before turning and heading towards the door, where Emmett was waiting with his coffee.

And then, as if on cue, a song started playing over the speakers. Like Rose had somehow orchestrated the whole thing, the familiar opening notes. I inwardly cursed her and her love of 90s hits.

Edward stopped dead in his tracks, slowly turning to face me. And as the song started, I couldn't help the grin that happened, the suddenly lightening of my mood. Reflected back in Edward's face, I knew he was remembering the same thing I was. The same moment in time all those years ago that marked a turning point in our relationship.

**August 2006**

It was the worst summer of my life. Everyday crawling by almost as slowly as the next. Days spent serving at the local diner, nights spend watching chick flick after chick flick at Rose's house. My parents put up with me at first, understanding my pain and heartbreak. But by mid-July, they had an intervention. Surprising me one night after work, I walked into my living room to find mom, dad and Rose sitting on the couch. It was an Edward Intervention. I could understand their concern, after all, I was the one who ended things.

But nevertheless, nothing I did seemed to ease my mood. I was miserable, barely living through each day. It was all monotonous, all boring and Edwardless.

"You need to sit at the table labeled with your assigned dormitory," Rose's voice echoed throughout the dining hall.

I was regretting ever giving her that bullhorn.

"Freshman!" she yelled again, "Get moving!"

It was the first day of freshman orientation and a week before classes actually began. Rose and I had signed up last spring to be Upperclassman Leaders and help the freshman move into their dorms and get acquainted with the campus. It wasn't a particularly glamorous job, but it paid more in a week than I made in a month at the diner.

"It's like herding cattle," Rose muttered under her breath.

We were crowded into Boyd dining hall, the largest dining hall on campus, with the entire freshman class. It was not my favorite way to spend a Tuesday afternoon. All I wanted to do was get settled back into Rose and mine's apartment, mope in my bed and mentally begin preparing myself for my first inevitable run-in with Edward Cullen. I'd successfully avoided all of his calls for the past three months, ignoring the flowers he sent, the letters. When he came down to Forks to talk to me, I barricaded myself into my bedroom and refused to see him. It was childish of me, I will admit, but it was the only way I knew how to cope with not being with him. It was what was best for us both, even if he couldn't see it yet.

I needed him to understand that he was much better without me. That he was better than me.

I even went of a couple dates, trying to convince myself that he was replaceable. That his hold over me could be broken by another boy's.

"Is that. . .is that the marching band?" Connie, another junior who subjected herself to freshman orientation, spoke up suddenly.

I looked up, following her gaze. Indeed the marching band was making their into the dining hall, completely decked out in their uniforms, holding their instruments.

"Did I miss something?" I asked, looking to Rose for an explanation.

"Um," she looked just as confused as me, "Is this some sort of welcome thing that they didn't tell us about?"

We kept our eyes on them as they all crammed in, standing at the entrance of the room. We were all speechless as they begin playing the opening chords of a familiar song. A song I'd never heard a marching band play before.

And then I heard his voice.

_Here is the money that I owe you, _

_Yeah so you can pay the bills,_

_I will give you more when I get paid again._

He walked into view, guitar in hand, stepping in front of the band.

Edward.

_I hate those people who love to tell you,_

_Money is the root of all the kills,_

_They have never been poor,_

_They have never had the joy of a welfare Christmas._

He smiled as he sang, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on me.

_You say you wake up crying,_

_Yes, and you don't know why,_

_You get up and you go lay down inside my baby's room._

He strummed his guitar, never breaking eye contact.

_Oh yeah, guess I'm doing okay,_

_I moved in with the strangest guy,_

_Can you believe he actually thinks that I am really alive?_

The entire room was focused on him, probably wondering what the hell was going on. He didn't notice at all, instead just slowly walking towards me as he sang.

_I will buy you a garden where your flowers can bloom,_

_I will buy you a new car, perfect, shiny and new,_

_I will buy you that big house, way up in the West Hills,_

_I will buy you a new life, yes I will._

He pauses in his spot and I can practically hear every freshman girl sighing.

_Yes I know all about that other guy,_

_The handsome man with the athletic thighs,_

_I know all about the time before,_

_With that obsessive little rich boy._

_They might make you think you're happy,_

_Yeah, maybe for a minute or two,_

_But they can't make you laugh,_

_No they can't make you feel the way that I do._

He stood in front of me then, the marching band playing behind him as everyone stood and watched. Rose's arm was around my shoulders, and I could feel her shaking with laughter.

_I will buy you a garden where your flowers can bloom,_

_I will buy you a new car, perfect, shiny and new,_

_I will buy you that big house, way up in the West Hills,_

_I will buy you a new life, yes I will._

He continued to play the rest of the song, singing to me, looking at me. It was like no one else in the room existed. When the last remaining notes of the song ended, I did the only thing in the world that I wanted to do.

I pulled him to me, pushing my lips against his.

* * *

><p>Let me know what you think. Thanks for reading.<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you to **majose **for pointing out the screw up I made in the timeline of things, I'm working now to go back and fix all of the errors in previous chapters. Thank you also to Jen, who is helping me edit everything.

I own nothing _Twlight._

* * *

><p> <em>You came in, yeah you happened to me,<em>

_And so I waited, nothing else has since,_

_I'm sorry boy, I'm no good for you no more._

_. . .Yes, I loved you boy,_

_But I'm not cut for this no more._

_Cut _- Jimmy Eat World

**Chapter Eight**

**Edward POV**

**April 2008**

"Edward, sweetie, what are you doing home?" my mother asked as I set my book bag down on the kitchen counter.

"Hey mom," I kissed her cheek, continuing on to the fridge, "Dad said he wanted to talk to me about something. I figured I'd meet him here and score a free home cooked meal out of it."

"Oh, I see how it is," she laughed, taking a glass out of a cabinet and setting it next to me as I freely drank from the orange juice container.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, a smile playing on my lips.

"He's in his office," she began taking items out of the pantry, preparing dinner, "Where's Bella? You should've brought her with you."

"She's pulling an all-nighter with Rosalie, they're having a study session for their last final," I couldn't help the grin that overtook my face at the mention of Bella.

I left the room, walking in the direction of my father's study. I suddenly thought back to my childhood and the countless times I spent in there, sitting at the desk next to him, watching him work. My father loved his job, but never sacrificed time with his family. He was somehow able to balance his professional and personal life, always showing up to Emmett's games, never missing one of my birthdays. I lightly knocked on the door.

"Come in," his voice said from the other side of the door.

He was sitting at the couch in the middle of the room, surrounded by papers.

"Edward," his face lit up, "Good to see you son, come on in."

He cleared away some of the papers on the couch, making room for me.

"What's going on, dad?" I looked around, there were files covering every available surface. Usually his office was impeccable.

He took off his glasses, setting them on the arm of the couch. He rubbed his temples, a gesture he often did when he was stressed about something. I wasn't getting a good feeling about this.

"Dad?" I repeated.

"Edward," he started, "Lawrence Seeland has cancer."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry to hear that," I thought of Mr. Seeland, my dad's best friend and the man who ran Cullen's London office.

"He's starting treatment immediately, but as I'm sure you can understand, he's decided to step down from his position as COO," his face had been downcast this whole time, as he looked at his shoes. At his next words, however, he looked up at me, "We need someone to go over and take over leadership of that division. We don't want to put any doubt in the shareholders' minds that the company isn't continuing to run smoothly."

I knew where this was going, knew that someday the question he was about to ask me would come out of his mouth. Even though I never wanted to go into the family business, I think I always knew I would. I thought of Bella, of our plans for the future. I thought of the ring, currently sitting in my desk drawer back in Emmett and mine's apartment. I thought of her excitement over our apartment, our future, our life together. The internship she just got at that art gallery down by Pike Place. I knew what I was going to have to ask of her and I could only hope that for my heart's sake, she would come with me.

"I'll do it," I said to him, before he could even ask the question. It was the last I could do for everything that he had ever done for me.

"Edward, think about this before you make any decisions. Talk to Bella about it. I want nothing more than to have you work for this company, but I'm not going to force you," he placed his hand on my shoulder, "And I will understand if you aren't able to."

"Dad," I looked him straight in the eyes, "I'll do it."

But there was something I had to do first.

The drive to Forks the following morning was one I had grown accustom to over the past few years. I frequently drove down on the weekends with Bella for Sunday dinner with her parents. Despite my familiarity with the route, I couldn't help the gnawing feeling in my stomach. I was nervous. No, not nervous. Scared shitless. Although I had been mentally preparing myself for this moment for months now, I still wasn't anywhere near ready. I thought I had at least another week, planning my proposal for the weekend of the 4th of July, when we'd be with all our friends and family.

Pulling up to the Swan house, I turned my engine off. I took several deep breathes, hoping to calm myself down. Charlie's cruiser was parked in its usual spot. I paused by it as I made my way towards the house, hoping he didn't have his gun loaded.

"Edward, hey," Charlie said as he opened the door, "This is a surprise."

"Charlie, how are you?" I asked, stepping inside the modest house.

"Just got off the late shift," he replied, making his way towards the kitchen.

I followed behind him, looking at the pictures on the wall as I did. Pictures of Bella, as a baby. As a little girl. As a teenager. As a young woman. There was one of the two of us last year, on Christmas, her head resting on my shoulder, both of us smiling at the camera. Seeing the picture gave me renewed confidence in what I was about to do.

"I'm sorry to bother you so early, I needed to talk to you about something," I took a seat across from him at the kitchen table.

He just looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to speak.

"As you know, sir, my father owns his own company-" I started.

"You mean that multi-billion dollar corporation that ranks third as most powerful company in Seattle, behind Microsoft and Starbucks?" he grinned at me.

"Yeah, that's the one," I laughed, before continuing, "Anyway, there's been some recent changes in the company and well. . .my father has asked me to help run one of the offices."

He waits for a moment for me to continue, but I can't get the words out, so he urges me along, "No offense son, but what's this got to do with me?"

"Well, the thing is," I rubbed the back of my neck, a nervous habit, "The office is in London."

The realization slowly came over his face, what I was about to say.

"Sir, I know we're both really young, but I love your daughter. I love her more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone. She's everything to me and I want to spend the rest of my life trying to make her as happy as she's made me," I paused, "I'm asking you for your permission for Bella's hand in marriage."

There's a silence that seems to go on forever.

"What about London?" he asked finally.

This was the part I was dreading the most.

"I've decided to take the position, I owe it to my father," I explained.

"And you want Bella to go with you?"

I nodded, knowing what I was going to have to ask of her.

"Son, Bella has lived in Washington her whole life. All of her friends and family live here. She just got that internship with that art gallery she's been talking about non-stop for two years," the more he spoke, the more my heart began to sink, "You can't ask my daughter to drop her life, her dreams, just so you can go gallivanting around Europe for god knows how long. Do you know how selfish that is? What you're going to ask of her?"

I swallowed back the tears that I could feel forming, not wanting the Chief to see me weak.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but I want to spend the rest of my life with her," I plead.

"At what cost? You know she'll agree to go with you, it's Bella. She'd move mountains if it made you happy. She's too self-sacrificing, she always has been. She lets people walk all over her because she wants to make them happy, but I can't let you take away this opportunity from her," he said, referring to the internship that she had been busting her ass to get.

"There are so many other opportunities in London, so many museums and galleries," I could hear the wavering in my voice, "She could do so much over there."

"You don't understand, Edward. You're asking her to leave behind everything she's ever known and loved for you. You're asking her to give up something that she's spent years working for," he tapped his finger on the table to emphasis his point.

All I could do was sit there, staring down at my own hands. He was right. I was being so fucking selfish. I knew Bella would come with me, knew because she always did whatever was in her power to make everyone around her happy. It was something I absolutely loved about her. But I had seen what it did to her, what she worked so hard to hide from me and everyone else. The moments when it got to her, that pleasing everyone around her got to be too much. She gave up her time to help Rose study for her business classes. She gave up what little money she did have to buy me a guitar. She never missed one of Emmett's games, no matter what she had going on. I couldn't do that to her.

"I'll take care of it," I didn't recognize the sound of my own voice as I said the words.

"I'm trusting you to do what's best for her," he said, rising from his seat.

I couldn't say anything. Didn't know what to say, even if I could. It was like some sort of switch had been flipped, numbing my entire body.

I drove back to Seattle, somehow making it to the apartment that was to be mine and Bella's. It was empty, the walls a bright white. I still remember when we had come to look at it, Bella's excitement filling the entire place. She saw the potential of each room, what she wanted to do with them. The mural she wanted to paint on our bedroom wall. And it was there, in that bedroom, that I finally let myself cry.

Two hours later, I picked up the phone to make that call that I knew would change my life forever.

**September 2011**

"Tanya, what are you doing? We have to be in the conference room in half an hour," I looked up from my desk in the office we were using, seeing Tanya stand and collect her things.

"Relax, Edward," she smiled, "I'm just running across the street to grab a cup of coffee. I can't drink this crap anymore."

She was right, the coffee here tasted like piss water. How hard was it to get a decent cup of coffee in Seattle, of all places?

"I'll go with you, I need to stretch," I followed her out of the room, "I feel like we've been trapped in that room for days now."

We rode in the elevator in silence, both of our minds focused on the merger we had been working on now for the better part of a year. It was coming to culmination in the next few days, which meant we'd been pulling all-nighters for three straight days now. Everyone was exhausted and ready for a break.

The fresh air hit my face as we stepped outside and I greedily took it in. This was my first time back in Seattle in almost four years, I had missed the city. Sure my family came to visit me in London, but it wasn't the same. Seattle had been my home for almost my entire life, I loved it there.

"There's got to be a Starbucks around here somewhere, I swear I saw one," Tanya's voice interrupted my thoughts.

She was looking around at all the shops that lined the street across from the Denali Enterprises building. It was located right in the heart of Seattle, one of my favorite places to be.

"Oh, there!" she yelled suddenly, pointing to a small shop located next to a bookstore.

We quickly made our way over, the shop aptly named the Bella Rose Café.

"How cute," she muttered, pushing open the door.

My heart momentarily stopped at the sight of the café name. Try as I might, I couldn't stop thinking about Bella and the shop name certainly wasn't doing anything to help matters. But then again, since stepping foot off the plane at Sea-Tac airport, I couldn't stop thinking of her. I thought of her everyday, if I was being honest. But being back here, where we existed together, it was like the memories were overpowering me. Everything reminded me of her, reminded me of the days we had spent in the park, the nights down by the sound. I had left her behind, that day in the apartment, cutting out any memory or contact I'd had with her. I couldn't think about her, going about her day to day activities. Moving on. Dating other men. Getting married. Having babies. The thought made me so sick, I'd rather it be like she never existed for me than to know someone else had her now.

"You coming?" Tanya asked, holding the door open for me.

I nodded, stepping inside the café. The smell of coffee flooded my sense, as I looked around the shop. There were paintings all over the walls, the lighting soft and intimate. It was homey and comfortable, unlike the sterile feeling of every other corporate coffee shop I'd ever been to. I followed Tanya to the line that wrapped around the queue railing, continuing to survey my surroundings. There was a painting on the back wall that I couldn't help but stare at. It was a large canvas, with a heart in the center. Other colors poured out around it, covering the entire surface. It was incredible.

My trance was broken by the sound of Tanya shrieking. She was standing by the drink hand-off plane, the line having moved considerably around me while I'd been staring at the painting. A boy, probably a little younger than myself, stood behind the counter with a horrified expression on his face.

"You did that on purpose!" she screamed, her face turning a shade of red I'd never seen on her before.

"I'm so sorry, I thought the lid was all the way on," the boy stammered, looking on the verge of tears.

"Can you believe this?" she asked me, incredulously.

I knew I had to step in before Tanya became any more hysterical.

"I'm sure it was just an accident," I said to her, stepping closer to her and placing my hand on her elbow, hoping to calm her.

"If he's that clumsy, he shouldn't be working around hot liquids," she continued anyway, shaking my hand off her elbow.

Her voice was at an octave I imagined only dogs could hear, as she rambled on. I knew that I needed to wrangle her in, having already caused quite a scene in the shop.

"I'm the manager," a very cold, very familiar voice said suddenly.

I turned, knowing who would be there before I even saw her. Rosalie Hale. A face I hadn't seen in years, one that I had pushed out of my memory as I had mentally labeled her under the file of 'Bella Swan' in my mind.

"Rosalie?" I spoke at the same time as Tanya.

She looked over at me, her face void of any sign of recognition, "Can I help you?"

"It's Edward," I said, "Edward Cullen."

She repeated my name, her eyes rolling to the ceiling as she tried to recall where she'd heard the name before. I couldn't believe it, she had forgotten about me. I was just a distance memory she had to work to bring forth. This meant that Bella probably never talked about me, never mentioned my name. She had moved on and probably never thought about me other than when repeating some college memory. The boy she had dated once, just a passing thought, a regret.

"I. . .we. . ."I heard myself stuttering, "We went to college together."

"Oh, how quaint," Tanya's voice was laced with sarcasm, "Now, just so we're clear, you will be paying for my dry cleaning bill."

I inwardly raged at her blatant rudeness.

"Rose, how are you?" I asked, ignoring Tanya altogether.

"I'm good," she said coldly, "And of course we will take care of the bill."

I noticed, then, the sign above her head. _Bella Rose Café,_ it read. Of course.

"Is this your shop?" I wanted her to keep talking, wanted Bella to somehow come up in the conversation. I hated myself for it.

I had been hoping to make it through this trip with minimal reminders of anything Bella Swan. I had avoided places we had frequented together. Ignored friends that we both knew mutually. I mean, I'd been ignoring them since the day I left Bella, it wasn't that far of a stretch. To them, I was just some selfish asshole who thought he was better than them. That was the Edward they had turned me into and I wasn't planning on changing that anytime soon.

"Yeah, I opened it a little bit after college. We didn't all have trust funds waiting around for us," she joked, but I could still detect the underlying anger.

I laughed, nervously. I knew the moment was incredibly awkward, but I couldn't bring myself to end it. I wanted to ask about Bella so badly, wanted to know what she was up to. Four years of silence was killing me, as much as I tried to bury down the feeling. Being here was pulling it to the surface.

"Bella?" the word came out of my mouth before I could stop it.

Rose's eyes followed mine to the sign above her head that I had been unknowingly looking at. Even just seeing her name, it was like something was coming alive inside me. Something I hadn't felt in years.

"Oh yeah, I named the shop after her. You know, after the accident," she added the last part quietly.

I was immediately pulled from whatever haze I was in. It actually felt like my heart had stopped beating.

"Accident? What accident?"

"You didn't hear?" she looked surprised and confused.

"No," I could hear the change in my voice, the confidence that I'd been trying to exude drained away.

"It was right after the summer we graduated, there was a car accident," she looked so sad at her words.

I tried to hide the emotions that were running through me, the absolute emptiness that had been growing inside me over the years now completely taking over.

"I really miss her," she looked longingly at the café sign, as though she was remembering something.

"I. . .," the words tried to form on my lips, but I couldn't get anything out.

"I better get back to work, those cups aren't going to order themselves," Rose smiled softly, turning on her heel, "It was great seeing you again, Cullen."

The feeling that settled over me was a completely new one. The loneliness and self-hatred that I'd been shrouded in since that day in the apartment, the knowing that Bella was somewhere out there in the world moving on, finding someone else, _that_ I could live with. She deserved every piece of happiness that came her way. But realizing that she'd been gone this whole time, that I'd lived even as long as I had without her, in a world where she didn't exist. . .that was something else entirely.

**April 2008**

"Edward?" I heard Bella's voice call out from the living room.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself. The tears had long dried, but the deadness in my eyes. . .I could clearly see as I looked at myself in our bathroom mirror. I walked out of the bedroom, my eyes finding her immediately. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, her hair thrown back in a casual ponytail.

She was incredible.

"What's wrong?" she asked, taking in my face.

I couldn't respond, not sure what to say. I had been sitting here for hours, trying to think of what I was going to say to her. What I would tell her, not wanting to her to know about my conversation with Charlie. She couldn't know about her father's involvement in this, I wouldn't let that happen. I had to find a way to make her hate me, I had to take all the blame for what was about to happen.

She came to stand in front of me, taking my face in her hands.

"Edward," she said hesitantly, as if she knew, "Is it Carlisle? Or Esme? What's wrong?"

My resolve faltered as I looked at her, trying to take her in as much as I could. I couldn't imagine my life without her, but I knew I couldn't ask her to give up everything she'd ever known. I wouldn't do that to her.

"Carlisle is sick," it was the first thing that came to my head, my thoughts on Mr. Seeland.

"Sick? How?" her eyes filled with concern.

I pulled her hands away, not wanting to look her in the face as I told her the necessary lies. I walked over to the balcony door, looking out over the courtyard below.

"Someone has to run the company while he goes into treatment and he asked me to do it," I hated dragging Carlisle's good name into this, but I knew I needed to destroy all the feelings she had for me and my family.

She stood in silence for a moment, as if she was digesting everything I had said.

"It's not forever," she said, walking over to put her hand on my shoulder.

I could feel the heat coming off her hand, the current that ran through our bodies when we were together was undeniable.

"I'm going to work in the London offices," I shook my head, trying to break the connection between us, "Carlisle needs me to go over there to instill confidence in the international shareholders."

"London," she repeated, "Well, it's not what we planned, but it's okay."

No. No, I wasn't going to let her do this.

"Alone," my voice broke at the word.

"What?" she asked.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat, turning towards her. Her willingness to drop everything to follow me across the world renewed my resolve. I was angry with her, angry that she would just cast her dreams aside so easily.

"I'm going alone, Bella," I said firmly, "I can't have any distractions, I need to focus on my father's company."

_Hate me,_ I pleaded to myself, _I don't deserve you._

"What?" she whispered, like all of the air had been sucked out of her.

"Cullen & Co. is a Fortune 500 company, I'm barely going to have enough time to eat. I can't have you being there, taking me away from what is important. This, it's not good for me," I looked away, not being able to look at her as I spoke the words.

"You mean I'm not good for you," her voice was dead and flat.

I couldn't bring myself to verbally confirm her statement, so I just looked at her, hoping to say with my eyes what I couldn't with my mouth.

She stepped away from me, as though she was realizing something, as though something was clicking into place within her mind.

"Bella," looking at her, my heart was breaking all over again.

She looked at me, tears forming in her eyes. Tears that she would let spill over, not in front of me.

"Bella," I repeated, stepping towards her, putting my hand over hers.

"Don't touch me," she screamed, jerking her hand away from mine.

It felt like a slap across the face, but I knew I deserved her rage. Her breathing increased, as though she was going to start hyperventilating. Her mouth hung open in shock, as she slowly started backing away from me.

"Fuck you."

Those were the last words Bella Swan spoke to me. And that was the day that life stopped mattering to me.

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><p>Let me know what you think. Thank you for all of the lovely reviews, by the way. I appreciate each and every one of them.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for all of the support and encouragement, you guys are awesome and I appreciate all the reviews. If you have a specific question, just let me know. I don't normally respond to every review but I will if you ask me something; however, I do read each and every one of them and I thank you for taking the time to write them!

I own nothing _Twilight._

* * *

><p><em>When she was just a girl, she expected the world,<em>

_But it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleep._

_She dreamed of paradise,_

_Every time she closed her eyes._

_Paradise - _Coldplay

**Chapter Nine**

**BPOV**

**October 2011**

I sat on the couch, staring out the window of my apartment. It was another cloudy day in Seattle, the leaves turning brilliant shades of golds and reds. I loved this city, loved the rain, loved the water. I had spent my entire life in Washington and figured I'd one day start a family here. I pictured a house just outside the city limits, with a sunroom where I could paint. A music room where Edward could play. Where our kids could learn and grow. I imagined we'd be teachers, sharing our passions with the world.

But those dreams had died the day Edward broke my heart.

I couldn't picture myself ever getting married, or having babies, or teaching. For a long time, nothing held my interest and I went through my life simply existing. It was Rose who got me painting again, Rose who convinced me to open the café with her. Rose who kept me together. I owed her everything.

"So has he called?" her voice startled me from my daze.

I turned to see her standing in the doorway of the living room, coffee mug in hand. She was still in her robe, having just woken up a few minutes ago.

"No," I replied softly, turning my attention back to the window.

I felt the cushion next to me sag as she sat, snuggling up against me.

"Do you think he will?"

I shrugged, taking the mug from her hands and sipping from it.

"Do you want him to?"

I didn't know. A part of me, the self-preservation side, wanted to ignore him, blow him off. The other part, the side I was trying to suppress, wanted an explanation.

"I'll support whatever you decide," she said, resting her head on my shoulder.

I couldn't help but smile at her words, "Thanks Rosie."

We sat in silence for a moment, both of us reliving the last few years in our minds.

"MoMA called again," she broke the silence, "That's the third time this week."

I didn't say anything. An administrator from the New York Museum of Modern Art had been trying to get a hold of me all week, I couldn't imagine why. I had been putting off calling them back, my thoughts consumed with the fact that Edward would be getting back into town any day now. I felt like that girl from four years ago, sitting around and waiting for him to call, sure that he would change his mind and come back to me. I hated myself for it.

"I wonder what they want." I found myself saying.

"You'll never know unless you call them back," I could hear a smile in her voice as she spoke.

I didn't respond, just took another sip of coffee. A few minutes passed and I was beginning to think that maybe Rose had fallen asleep.

"Alright!" she yelled, hopping up and completely scaring the shit out of me, "We're going shopping!"

I looked at her much like how I looked at her the time she suggested we get perms.

"I know what you're thinking and no, I'm not going to suggest some sort of hair transformation this time," she said stone faced, reading my mind like always.

"Shopping, Rose? Really?" I frowned, setting the mug on the coffee table and sitting up.

"Yeah," her face lit up, "Lets do a girls day, we haven't had one in so long. We can go shopping, get manis and pedis and then drink until we can't feel feelings anymore."

"That actually sounds perfect," I started, "Minus the shopping part. And the manis part. And pedi part."

She gave me an exaggerated frown, sticking her bottom lip out as far as it would go.

"Okay, okay, maybe just a little bit of shopping," I relented.

"Ha, I knew I could convince you, sucka!" she jumped on top of me, pining me down, "I know you secretly love a good manicure, admit it."

I laughed squirming underneath her, "Never!"

She pinched my side, knowing my weak spot. I instantly started giggling like a pre-pubescent school girl.

"Quit fighting it, Bella, just let it happen!" she continued her pinching, tickling me until I had tears in my eyes.

Before I could form any sort of retaliation, a loud noise interrupted us. We both glanced in the direction of the kitchen, my cell phone was sitting on the counter.

"Saved By the Bell!" I laughed, "Literally. Did you program the 'Saved By the Bell' theme song as my ringtone?"

She just grinned evilly before rolling off the couch to let me up. I leapt up and grabbed my phone. I recognized the area code as a NYC one.

"It's MoMA again," I said, staring down at the screen.

"Answer it!" she threw a pillow at me.

I rolled my eyes, before hitting the 'answer' button and putting the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"_Hi, may I please speak with Isabella Swan?" a woman's voice asked._

"This is her," I sat down at our little kitchen table, drawing my feet up beneath me.

"_Hi Ms. Swan, it's a pleasure to finally speak with you. My name is Jean Cope," her voice was gentle and motherly._

"Hi, yes, I got your messages. Sorry I haven't returned them, things have been a little hectic for me lately," I hoped I sound believable.

"_Oh, it's no problem," she replied, "It's been a busy time for us as well."_

"Yeah, the holidays approaching and everything," I had no idea what I was talking about, I just went with it.

"_You're probably wondering why I'm calling. We do a lot of work with Aro Moore, I believe you know him," she went on._

"Uh huh."

"_Anyway, we're doing a program at the start of the new year, for young, up-and-coming artists," I heard papers shuffling in the background, "We're inviting ten artists from all over the country to come work with us for the season. Basically putting together a showcase piece."_

I remained silent, not sure where this was going.

"_It's a six week program, sponsored by MoMA and NYU. You would be staying in the dorms, while you worked on putting together your piece. It's all-expense paid and an incredible opportunity."_

"I don't understand," I said lamely, confused.

"_Ms. Swan, Aro Moore nominated you for one of the spots and after looking over your portfolio, we've selected you as one of the ten artists to come stay with us for the month and a half period. Your work would be displayed at the museum at an event to be held over Valentine's Day weekend."_

I remained speechless.

"_Isabella, are you still there?"_

"Uh, yeah. . .yeah, I'm here. Sorry, I'm just a little shocked," I looked at Rose, who was staring at me expectantly.

"_Understandable, Aro told us he was doing it as a surprise for you. After the art show a few weeks ago, he sent us some samples of your work along with a picture of your '2008' piece," she laughed, "One million dollars! That's impressive." _

"Um, yeah," I said awkwardly.

"_Listen, you don't have to tell me right now but I will need an answer by the end of the week. We have to start reserving dorm rooms and setting up roommate situations, as well as getting things ready at the museum," she paused for a moment as though she was writing something down, "Just give me a call back at this number before 5 p.m. on Friday, eastern time."_

"Okay, yeah."

"_It's been a pleasure speaking with you, have a wonderful rest of the week Isabella," she said warmly before hanging up. _

I set my phone down on the counter, staring at it as if it had suddenly sprout legs and started walking.

"What'd they want?" Rose asked, sitting across from me.

"It was someone from the New York Museum of Modern Art," I continued to stare down at the counter, "I've been invited to spend six weeks in New York, putting together an exhibit."

She released a noise I'd only ever heard out of her once before: when we were eleven and Hanson announced they were coming to Seattle.

"That is so cool!" she gripped me in a hug, my face shoved against her chest, "I'm so happy for you Bells!"

"Thnyouvrmch," I mumbled as best I could, my face being squashed between her breasts.

"Oh sorry," she let go of me, allowing air back into my lungs, "Oh, we are so calling Charlie and Renee."

She jumped up and skipped off to her room to presumably get her cell and call my parents. The shock was beginning to wear off and I was beginning to feel the giddiness take over me. I laughed as my phone began playing the 'Saved By the Bell' theme song once again. I looked down at the screen, not recognizing the number but seeing the Seattle area code.

Aro.

They must've told him they'd finally gotten a hold of me.

"Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today," I sang into the receiver, "I want to be part of it, New York, New York!"

I heard chuckling on the other end of the line, but it wasn't Aro's voice. It was a musical laugh, one that sent chills down my spine.

Edward.

"_Bella?" _he asked, in between laughs_._

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else," I could feel my face burning red.

"_Oh, so you don't normally answer your phone by singing Frank Sinatra lyrics?" _I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Not usually, no," even I could hear the change in my voice, the cold, harshness of it.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"I, uh, I didn't recognize the number," I finally spoke, "I just saw the Seattle area code and assumed it was someone I worked with at the museum."

"_Oh," _his voice, too, had changed, _"I thought maybe you would've still had my number, it's been the same one all these years."_

"I've changed phones a couple of times," I answered, "I got rid of a lot of numbers I thought I'd never use again."

More awkward silence.

"_I hope I'm not interrupting anything," _his voice had become timid and unsure_._

"Oh, no, I was just-" I was cut off by the sound of Rose bounding into the room, talking at top volume.

"I know!" she giggled into her phone, "I'm thinking a little gathering, you know, a proper NYC send-off. Yeah! Exactly!"

I waved my hands at her, trying to silently shush her. She continued on, not noticing me desperately signaling at her.

"That would be perfect," she was saying, "I'm so excited, New York City!"

"_Bella?" _Edward's voice interrupted my frantic attempts to get Rose to shut up_._

"Sorry, Rose is really excited about-"

"_New York City?" _he questioned, _"And apparently, so are you. What's going on?"_

"Nothing," I snapped, the immediately felt bad, "Sorry, I'm just. . .can I call you back?"

I didn't want him to know about New York City. I didn't want him to know about my art. I didn't want him to know anything about me. He didn't deserve it.

"_Yeah, sure," _his voice wavered, _"Just give me a call back at this number when you get a chance."_

"Okay, yeah, bye," I quickly said, hanging up right after.

Rose's face was lit up like a Christmas tree as she lowered her phone, presumably to tell me something. The look on my face must've stopped her because her smile disappeared. She didn't have to ask me any questions, she didn't have to know anything that had just happened with me in the last five minutes. All she had to do was take one look at me and she knew.

"Edward," was all she said.

**July 2008**

"Knock, knock."

I didn't say anything as a soft rapping sound followed, just rolled over on my bed so my back was to the door. Despite my lack of answer, the door opened anyway.

"Bella?" my mother's voice asked from behind me.

I wanted to talk to her, reassure her that I was still alive, that somewhere underneath my misery I was still her same Bella. But I couldn't, because I wasn't. I was dead inside and nothing mattered.

"Baby, I brought you some food," she said, sitting on the bed.

I continued to stare at the wall, my body having melded into the mattress. I felt like I hadn't moved since graduation, in which I'd come home, ceremoniously dumped my belongings on the floor, crawled into my bed and cried.

"Sweetie," her hand rubbed comfortingly along my back.

The crying had lasted about a month before the dull numbness had set in. It was like a switch had been flipped and I was no longer capable of feeling any sort of emotions. Every day ran into the next, no distinguishing characteristics to separate them.

"You need to eat," she continued.

I hugged my blanket closer to my chest, knowing the whole time that she was right but unable to find it in me to care. Food held no interest for me, nothing did. I knew that I should eat, knew that I had lost an unhealthy amount of weight in a very short period of time. My clothes, when I bothered to put them on, hung off me. My cheeks were sunken in, my eyes lined with black smudges from lack of sleep.

I heard her sigh as she ran her fingers through my hair. I hated that I was scaring her and my father, but I just couldn't drag myself up from the hole I was in. I could no longer see my future now that Edward wasn't in it.

**January 2009**

"Happy New Year!"

"_Should auld acquaintance be forget and never brought to mind?" _everyone around me sang as the clock hit midnight, the music filling up the room.

Rose and I had decided to throw a party at the café for our friends and family to celebrate our opening and to thank everyone for their love and support.

"_For auld lang syne, my dear_

_For auld lang syne._

_We'll take a cup of kindness yet,_

_For auld lang syne."_

I looked around the room, taking in the sight of my loved ones. My parents, hugging, smiling knowingly at each other. Angela, Jacob and Jessica, their arms around each other as they swayed, drunk and singing at the top of their lungs. Rose, with her boyfriend Royce, their lips pressed together passionately. Rose's parents, laughing at it all.

"_But we've wandered many a weary foot,_

_Since auld lang syne."_

I thought back to a New Years not long ago. I could still hear his whisper, feel his breath against my cheeks.

"I love you, Bella," it was like he was here in the room.

I snuck to the backroom and cried as my friends and family celebrated a new beginning. Singing, dancing.

"_But seas between us broad have roared,_

_Since auld lang syne."_

**August 2009**

"Oh my god, seriously. If I had balls, I'd be sweating them off right now!" Rose stood by our living room window, attempting to catch whatever breeze she could.

I lied on the couch, with three fans blowing full force at me. My clothes were stuck to me in the most unpleasant manner. I was giving new definition to the term "swamp ass."

"What are the odds that our air conditioning stops working on the hottest day of the year?" I groaned.

We had to close the café because there was no air down there as well. The entire building was a sweat box.

"Alright, I'm going up to the roof. There's gotta be some sort of air circulation going on up there," she climbed out the window onto the fire escape. "You coming?"

I muttered my reply as I dragged myself off the couch. I didn't look, but I imagined there had to be a sweat outline of my body in the spot I'd just been. I made my way up the stairs, cursing the heat the whole time. It'd been a while since Seattle had seen a heat wave and this one was hitting with full force. There was no way in hell I could stay in our apartment if the air conditioning wasn't working.

"When is that guy suppose to get here?" I asked, as I made my way over to the lawn chairs we had set up on the roof.

"I don't know," she fanned herself with her hand, "He said as soon as possible, but he had other calls first."

"If it's not fixed by night fall, we're staying at Jake's," I replied, my eyes closed at the sun beat down on me.

"Agreed."

We sat in silence for a few minutes before Rose decided to she needed background noise. I reached for the battery-powered radio we kept under one of the chairs. It was old as hell and I was surprised it still kept working, despite the fact that'd it had been exposed to the elements.

"No emo, Bells," she said as I turned it on.

I rolled my eyes, turning it to the pop station she always forced me to listen to.

"This is not music, Rose. It's noise," I complained as a Lady Gaga song started playing.

"Don't diss the creative genius that is the Gaga," she reached over and pulled my hair.

I sat, listening to Rose sing along to the radio. My thoughts went to a piece I was currently working on, a self-portrait I'd been struggling with. I wanted to give it to my parents as a thank you gift for their help over the past year, but it didn't look right. No matter how much I tried to draw myself as happy, all that could come out of me was an interpretation of how I was really feeling on the inside. The feelings I had buried deep within me to keep everyone from being worried. I couldn't let my parents see it.

"_You're listening to K102, Seattle's number one hit music station," _a man's voice came from the speakers, _"Number one because we're awesome!"_

"God, I hate radio DJs," I groaned, causing Rose to laugh.

"_And now for all your latest celebrity gossip, with Jen. Jen, what's going on in the land of the rich and famous?" _the male DJ asked.

"Ooo, yes! Celebrity gossip, turn it up," Rose cheered, a sucker for everything pop culture.

"I do not need to hear about Lindsay Lohan's latest antics," I bitched, but turned it up for her nonetheless.

"_. . .getting a divorce, it was announced," _the woman was saying as we quieted down, _"That's really not a surprise for anyone, I think we all saw it coming."_

"_Another celebrity divorce? I'm beginning to lose hope in love," _the man laughed, causing me to cringe.

I never listened to the radio for this specific reason: DJ banter.

"_. . .right there with you," _she agreed, before continuing on, _"Oh, a little bit of local celebrity news. Edward Cullen, Seattle's own bit of royalty, seems to be dating Hollywood's latest 'It' girl. . ."_

Before I could hear the name, Rose's hand slammed down on the radio, effectively silencing it. It was too late though, the mood was altered immediately.

"You're right," Rose said, acting nonchalant, "Radio DJs blow."

That was the first time that when Edward's name was mentioned in a conversation, I laughed instead of crying.

**March 2010**

"Wow, Bella, you look incredible," Henry's eyes looked me up and down appreciatively.

It was our fourth date, the first having been on Valentine's Day. Normally I have a rule against dating customers, but there was something about Henry that drew me in. He had sandy blonde hair and ocean blue eyes-not the type I would typically go for, which is why I did.

"Thanks," I blushed, "You don't look too shabby yourself."

He grinned at me, holding out his arm for me to take. Henry worked as a lawyer at a firm down the street from the café. He'd been coming in for a couple months now, at first polite and friendly. Eventually he began to "take a special interest" in me, as Jessica and Angela called it. He was funny, sweet and caring. He was comforting and warm and safe.

"Where are we going?" I asked as he opened the passenger door of his car.

"Oh, just your favorite place in the entire world," he teased.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself in a booth at The Library, a bar across from the college campus that I'd spent the better part of my undergrad at . It was the perfect place.

"I can't believe you knew to bring me here," I laughed as I took a sip of my beer.

"Well, I can't take all the credit. I had a little help from Rose," his eyes were bright as his smile grew.

"Yeah, she always knows how to charm someone."

We ordered our food, commenting on the crowd around us. It was the week before Spring Break, so all of the students appeared to be in rare form. Most of them seemed to be preparing their livers for the week of debauchery ahead of them. I missed college.

"You see that cracked mirror over there, the one by the Miller Lite sign?" I pointed to a spot above the bar.

He turned around, looking to the direction I was point to, "Yeah."

"Our junior year of college, Rose got shitfaced one afternoon," I started.

"Afternoon?"

"Yeah," I laughed, "It was after a particularly rough exam she had in her 9 a.m. class. She came straight home and immediately hit the bottle, taking me along with her. By noon, we were belligerent. But somehow we managed to walk from our apartment to the bar, I still have no memory of how we got here. What I do remember, however, is Rose deciding she wanted to play darts. Except, instead of playing with actual darts, she decided to play with her shoe. And instead of throwing it at the dart board, she decided to throw it at the mirror."

"Hence, the crack," he surmised.

"Hence the crack," I repeated, "Remy-the bartender over there-left it there as a warning on the dangers of day drinking. Well, that and he likes to remind Roes of it every time we're in here."

I looked back to the mirror, smiling at the memory-or lack thereof-of that day. It was well worth the extreme hangover I woke up with the next morning. My eyes drifted from the mirror, across the bar, to one of the televisions they had set up along the walls. It was the news, nothing special. Just as I began to focus my gaze back on Henry, I heard a group of girls at the bar squeal.

"Oh my god, turn it up!" one of them giggled.

Henry and I both looked back over to see what all the commotion was about. The girls were staring up at the TV, adoringly. Remy looked as though he was about to protest, but then saw what, or rather who, was on the screen and complied.

Edward.

Of course. Remy knew Edward as well as he knew Rose and myself.

"God, he's so hot," one of the girls, the blonde one, sighed.

"You know he use to hang out at this bar?" the redhead stated.

"_. . .Edward Cullen surprised the crowd at a gala in Italy last night, serenading the room," _the anchor was saying, _"Cullen was in the music program at the University of Washington before he took over the London branch of his father's company, Cullen & Co. Last night he proved his musical talents to a room of over 3,000."_

The screen changed to show the gala, an elegantly decorated room filled with men and women, exquisitely dressed.

"_The performance was captured on video and is quickly becoming a sensation on YouTube. . ."_

Edward was standing on stage next to a petite brunette woman. My heart still sped up at the sight of him.

"_He dedicated it to Julia Westwood, who is believed to be his current girlfriend. . ."_

I could feel the bile rising in my throat, but managed to keep my demeanor cool. I couldn't breakdown, not in front of Henry.

"_Questo è per il mio bella," _Edward spoke in perfect Italian as he looked down at the guitar in his hands.

This is for my beauty.

I bit my lip to keep the tears from falling. The fact that he was using my name to describe this woman.

I could barely hear the first strums of his guitar as the black hole reopened within me.

_There's still a little bit of your taste,_

_In my mouth._

_There's still a little bit of you laced,_

_With my doubt._

_It's still a little hard to say,_

_What's going on._

His voice was as stunning as I remembered it.

_There's still a little bit of your ghost,_

_Your witness._

_There's still a little bit of your face,_

_That I haven't kissed. _

_You step a little closer to me,_

_So close that I can't see what's going on._

Everyone in the bar had stopped, watching Edward sing.

_Stones taught me to fly,_

_And love, it taught me to lie._

_Life taught me to die,_

_So it's not hard to fall,_

_When you float like a cannonball._

My breathing was erratic, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. I wondered if anyone looked at me, if they could see the utter despair I was feeling inside.

_There's still a little bit of your song,_

_In my ear._

_There's still a little bit of your words,_

_That I long to hear._

_You step a little closer each day,_

_So close that I can't say what's going on._

It was suddenly like no time had passed since now and that day in our apartment, the day when my world changed forever.

_It's not hard to fall,_

_When you float like a cannonball._

I knew then that I wasn't ready. I never spoke to Henry again.

**October 2011**

I twisted my hands nervously in my lap, looking around the crowded restaurant. It wasn't a place I'd normally go, but Edward had picked it. It was too fancy, the people too aware of themselves. There was even a dress code, something I didn't actually believe really existed in restaurants until now. The Edward I knew never would've come here, but then again, he wasn't my Edward anymore.

"More water, miss?" the waiter appeared next to me, a pitcher in his hand.

"Yes please," I smiled up at him, "and more wine."

I held up the empty glass to him, earning a curious stare back. I'd already downed one class in a matter of ten minutes, he probably thought I was an alcoholic. The truth was, I was doing anything I could to calm my nerves. I knew that any moment now Edward would appear across from me.

I smoothed down my dress, hoping I'd make it through the meal without spilling something on the fabric. Rose had dressed me and threatened death if I got anything on it. She should've known better than to let me wear anything in the white family. Although the cream color was beautiful, I didn't really know if I would pull it off; my skin was already pale enough. Rose reassured me several times, however, that it brought out the brown of my eyes and the chestnut of my hair. I didn't really see it, but I took her word for it.

"Bella?"

His voice startled me, I'd been so deep in thought I hadn't seen him approach the table. I smiled at him, hoping my blush wasn't as evident as I suspected it was.

"Hey," I said softly, swallowing deeply.

He wore a simple black suit with a white shirt and black tie. It probably would've looked basic on just about any other man, but on him it was exquisite. Time had been exceptionally kind to him.

"How was London?" I asked, as he took his seat across from me.

"Cold, rainy," he smiled, "How's Seattle been?"

"Cold, rainy," I shrugged, causing him to laugh.

There was a silence then, neither of us really knowing what to say. He was looking at me in a way that made me uncomfortable, his green eyes burning holes into me. It was like he was trying to look into my soul, trying to find something.

"You look beautiful," he voice was thick, coarse.

"Thanks," I blushed again, looking down into my lap.

"Miss," the waiter was back with my water and wine, "Can I get something for you, sir?"

"I'll have what the lady is having," Edward responded, nodding towards me.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you remember in school," Edward started, as soon as the waiter was out of earshot, "we use to buy those boxes of wine and drink it out of Mason jars?"

His face looked so hopeful then, excited to share a memory, any memory.

"No," I lied, "College seems like forever ago. I don't really remember much."

We both knew what I was doing.

"Bella," he started, leaning closer to the table, trying to get as near to me as he could, "I miss you."

"Don't," I held up my hand, "I can't."

He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but held it back. His eyes didn't hold the burning intensity anymore, instead it was replaced by a deep sadness. A look that I recognized all too well from my own eyes.

"What are we doing here?" I asked the question I wanted to ask since the moment he sat down.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

The waiter came back, setting down Edward's wine. We ordered our food, avoiding each other's eyes the whole time. Neither of us wanting to see what the other was thinking. It wasn't until our food had arrived, and after many an awkward silence, that he spoke of something of substance as opposed to the small talk we'd been making.

"I can't believe it's like this between us," he sighed, after taking a sip of his wine, "I never. . ."

"Edward," I cut him off, "What do you want from me?"

He ran his hand through his hair, removing any semblance of order it had. I remembered running my own fingers through it as we sat on the couch, watching movies, making out. I wondered if it felt the same.

"I want. . I want," he stuttered, "I don't know what I want."

I sighed angrily, pissed that we were back here, that I'd actually agreed to this. I fixed my eyes on him, the rage building inside me. I don't know why I had come, why I had actually shown up. Rose told me I deserved an explanation, but I didn't even know if I wanted one. There was too much between us, too much hurt and pain.

"Why am I here, then? What did you think was going to happen tonight?" I fumed.

"I don't know," he raised his voice slightly, causing the couple at the table next to us to look over.

"Well, if you don't know then I guess we're wasting our time," I pushed my chair back, causing a screeching sound across the tiled floor.

He looked up at me, desperate.

"Bella, please," his voice was much lower now, but still agitated.

"No, you don't get to 'Bella, please' me, Edward," I stood up, the chair clattering to the ground behind me, "You are a selfish, uncaring little boy who only thinks about how things will affect him. You told me I wasn't good enough for you, after four years together. After I loved you and gave you every part of myself. You knew I had doubts about my role in our relationship, that I'd already felt insecure and not worthy of you."

He opened his mouth to speak, but I quickly cut him off.

"No, you don't get to speak!" I all but yelled, "I loved you so much it hurt. And when you walked away from me, from us, it almost killed me. You have no idea what the past four years have been like for me. I've been depressed and lonely and miserable and you think you can just walk back into my life and everything would be okay?"

I looked down at him, in total disbelief. I couldn't even fathom what was happening right then, the words just kept coming out of me.

"Like we could be friends? When I've had to see pictures of you and videos of you with other women, all over the world? What did you think? That I'd just be sitting here, plain old Bella, sitting alone in her apartment in Seattle, waiting for the day when Edward Cullen would come back?"

He stood then, his height towering over me and I'd never felt so small.

"Bella," his voice was broken.

"Goodbye Edward, don't call me again," I bit my lip to keep the tears from falling.

Before I could see his response, I turned on my heels and began walking out of the restaurant. Everyone watched me as I made my way towards the door. I wasn't even embarrassed about causing a scene, the rage boiling within me. I shoved the door open, the cool October air hitting me and as I suddenly remembered I'd left my coat inside, on the back of my chair.

"Fuck!" I screamed into the night air.

It wasn't worth it to go back in for it, it'd ruin my awesome exit. Plus, I knew Rose wouldn't be mad at me for leaving her coat behind if it meant a soap opera-worthy moment. My heels clicked loudly against the sidewalk as I walked towards my car. The dark, autumn air was biting but refreshing at the same time. The wind had picked up since I'd arrived at the restaurant and I stopped, taking a moment to absorb it, to attempt to find some calm. The first raindrop hit my shoulder, cold and hard.

"Bella," I heard his voice calling from behind me.

Instead of turning to him, I tilted my head back towards the sky. The rain dripped faster, from a whimper to a sob.

"Bella," it was closer then, a few feet behind me.

I felt his touch long before his hand actually connected with my arm. The connection was like electricity, a vibration that had never stopped despite our time apart. He turned me towards him, my face still upwards toward the stars.

"Look at me," he pleaded, "Please look at me."

I didn't want to. I couldn't.

I felt his hand on my face, on my cheek. I couldn't stop myself from looking then, lowering my face to him. His eyes were emeralds, the raindrops clinging to his lashes. He was beautiful. He was mesmerizing. But he wasn't mine, not anymore.

And as I opened my mouth to tell him this, to tell him I wasn't his anymore either, he pulled me to him.

"That guy isn't your fiancée, is he?" he whispered, his eyes searching mine.

I started to pull away, but before I could even react he pressed his lips to mine.

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><p><strong>AN: **Don't hate me too much. Let me know what your thoughts/feelings are on this one. Also, question: would you guys want to see another Edward POV? And if so, which chapter would you want to see from his POV? Thanks again.


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you for all your awesome responses. Chapter nine seemed to be the one that most people wanted to see an EPOV of. I decided to give you a little glimpse into Edward's life for the past few years. Maybe it'll make you all hate him less.

I own nothing _Twlilight._

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><p><em>Isn't it strange h<em>_ow it changed,_

_Everything we did, _

_Did I do all that I should?_

_That I could've done?_

_Stay or Leave _- Dave Matthews Band

**Edward POV**

**Chapter 10**

**July 2008**

I stared down at the phone in my hands for what seemed like the millionth time. It was 7 p.m. in Forks, Washington right now, that's all I could think about. Which meant it was 3 a.m. here. Here on this bed, in this hotel room, in this city-London. There was life all around me, people on the streets, coming out of the pub below. Drunk, oblivious, happy.

It'd been almost a month since I first arrived, and in that month all I'd seen were the Cullen London office, my hotel room and the hotel bar. The hotel bar, more than anything, really. If I wasn't working, I was drinking and if I wasn't drinking, I was sleeping. I couldn't focus, couldn't do what I'd come here to do. I knew that. My father knew that.

My thoughts quickly drifted back to this morning. Well, yesterday morning now, I guess.

"_Good morning, Mr. Cullen," Jill, my receptionist, greeted me as I stepped off the elevator._

"_Morning," I mumbled, trying my best to give her a smile but failing miserably._

_She looked at me sympathetically, knowing something was very wrong but not knowing what. She'd seen it in my eyes the moment we were introduced back in June. _

"_Um, Mr. Cullen," she stuttered, scooting back in her and chair and coming to stand in front of me, "There's someone here to see you."_

_My heart jumped in my chest. For a moment, it was like everything fell back into place. _

_Bella._

_I hurried around Jill, opening my office door and practically falling into the room. It wasn't Bella on the other side, it was my father._

"_Edward," he simply said, seated the leather couch in the corner._

"_Dad?" _

_He patted the spot on the couch next to him. I slowly walked over, my heart breaking all over again as I made my way. It was stupid of me to get my hopes up like that. _

"_Son," he started, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to him, "I'm here."_

_That was when I lost it, the sobs shaking my body so violently, I thought I was going to throw up. _

I left the office early, knowing what I had to do but not having the courage to do it. That's how I ended up back at the hotel bar which is how I ended up sitting on my hotel bed, staring down at my cell phone at 3 a.m.

I took another swig from the bottle of vodka I'd purchased from the convenience store across the way. The background on my phone was the same picture it'd been for almost two years now: it was right after an acoustic gig I'd played at The Library. I'd asked Bella to hold my phone while I played. Afterwards, as we were walking back to my apartment, she'd jumped on my back. Holding my phone out in front of us, she'd snapped a picture. Our cheeks touching, our eyes slightly glazed over from the beers we had drank. The boy in the picture looked so happy, I couldn't even fathom that _that _boy was me.

"Just do it," I whispered to myself.

I hit the 'contact' button on my screen, scrolling through my list until I landed on Bella's name. Taking a deep breath, I put the call through. My heart pounded faster with each ring, I could barely breathe.

"Hello?"

It wasn't Bella's voice that answered her phone, it was Charlie's. I panicked, not knowing what to do. I hadn't planned for this.

"Hello? Edward?"

Shit. I forgot about caller ID.

"Charlie," my voice sounded far away.

"What do you want?" he didn't sound angry, just hesitant.

"Is she there?" I asked desperately.

He sighed and I imagined him standing in the Swan living room, the last rays of the day's sun coming through the window.

"She must've left her phone," he said, pausing, "She's not here."

I wanted to ask where she was, who she was with, what she was doing. But then he answered all of those questions for me.

"She's on a date, Edward."

"A date?" my voice broke.

He paused, considering what to say next.

"She's moved on, Edward, and you need to too," he went on, "No more calls, no emails, no texts."

The tears were falling down my cheeks before I even realized they were.

"Leave her alone."

The call ended abruptly. I set the phone down on the bed, the picture of me and Bella staring back at me. I picked up the bottle of vodka and began drinking until the hurt stopped.

**August 2008**

"Wakey wakey," a familiar voice said, followed by a hard, heavy object landing on top of me.

"Damnit, Emmett," I groaned, pushing him off me.

I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. Emmett sat on the edge of the bed, a bag in his hand.

"I brought McMuffins," he grinned his goofy grin.

I closed my eyes, running my hand through my hair. He'd only been here a week and already, he was driving me crazy. Although he wouldn't admit it, I knew that my mother had sent him here to keep an eye on me. Since my phone call with Charlie, I had thrown myself into my work with such determination, I was ignoring every other aspect of my life-including my family.

"Come on dude, we've got a big day ahead of us," he said, mouthful of McMuffin.

"Emmett, your idea of a big day involves photo copying pictures of your ass and sending them out as memos to the entire office," I grumbled, pushing the covers aside.

"I only did that the one time. Apparently, some people consider that to be sexual harassment," he shrugged.

"You think?" I just looked at him, incredulously.

Although he often did stupid shit, it was usually all in sport. Not many people could meet Emmett and not immediately be charmed by him, it's the reason why he was constantly surrounded by women wherever we went.

"I'm going to jump in the shower," I stood, stretching my limbs.

"Can I use your computer? I need to check my email," he asked, already seated at the desk.

I just nodded, making my way towards the bathroom. I turned the water as hot as it could go, just so I could feel something, even if it was the burning hot water. I was so numb inside, it was like nothing could get a reaction from me; not my friends, not my family, not even work stress. It was just walking through my life on auto pilot, just existing.

The water ran over my chest, scalding it. I grimaced at first, eventually getting use to feeling. I had dreamt of her again last night, of Bella. She wasn't my Bella though, at least not the girl I remembered. Her hair was longer, her shape more voluptuous. She looked older, somehow. Mature. Like a woman, not the college co-ed of my memories. She had been running from me, laughing and taunting me to catch her. But every time I got close enough, she would run faster and faster. I couldn't reach her, couldn't grab a hold.

"Are you jerking off in there? Hurry up man," Emmett's voice called out, interrupting my thoughts.

I just rolled my eyes, shutting the water off. I toweled myself off, stepping back into the room. A cloud of steam followed behind me.

"You better not be looking at porn," I muttered, walking over to the closet.

I pulled out one of the many suits I'd purchased over the past few weeks. I was getting tired of living in a hotel, but I kept putting off finding an apartment. It would just make everything seem more permanent and I wasn't ready for that.

"I'm not looking at porn, asshole," he threw a wadded up piece of paper at me, "I'm reading the Seattle Times online."

I raised my eyebrows at him, knowing Emmett was not one to keep up on news.

"What? Dad told me that I'd have to keep more up-to-date on current events now that I'm helping you," his eyes didn't leave the screen, "Jesus, though. It must be a slow news week in Seattle. . .apparently they're repaving most of the downtown roads. Also, and I'm not making this up, a fireman saved a cat from a tree."

I laughed, buttoning up my shirt.

"Oh, and in case you were wondering, there was a car accident off the 101 near Port Angeles involving a UW student and a truck driver," he remarked, reading off the website.

I stopped what I was doing, taking his words in.

"What?"

"Just some guy," he muttered, clicking on something, "Oh, it is currently raining there. Surprise!"

Just some guy. Okay. I breathed. Not Bella.

**December 2008/January 2009**

"Hey sweetie, over here!" my mother's voice called to me from across the room.

"Mom," I blushed, "I thought we talked about calling me 'sweetie' in front of my employees."

She just laughed, pulling me into a hug.

"I carried you for nine months and then spent 18 years raising you, I think I've earned the right to call you 'sweetie' in front of anyone I want," she pinched my cheek, causing my blush to deepen.

Someone called for her then and she gave me a final squeeze before making her way over to them. I glanced around the room, taking in the crowd. This was the first year my parents had spent the New Year with the London crew. They said it was to show a united front, between the US and overseas offices, during the growing tumultuous economic climate.

Bullshit.

They had invited me to Seattle for their annual celebration, but I had refused, saying I had too much work to do. That I couldn't drag myself away from the office. They saw right through that; the real reason was because I couldn't imagine the thought of being in that ballroom, that same ballroom I'd spent every New Year for the past four years in with Bella. To have to countdown to midnight without her in my arms, to enter another year knowing I didn't have her.

"Hey you," Julia appeared next to me, sliding her arm through mine.

I smiled down at her, suddenly feeling a calm come over me. Julia Westwood was my assistant, whom I often referred to as my better half. Over the three months she'd been working for Cullen & Co. she'd become my best friend, my closest confidant. I trust her more than I trusted any other person I'd met in London.

"Thank god, I thought I was going to be forced to have more awkward conversations with people I've never met," I pulled her to my side, kissing the top of her head.

We both reached for another glass of champagne as a server passed us. An hour and several glasses later, we were in the middle of making fun of the surplus of pompous people, all trying to out-do each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we'd like to thank you for coming out tonight," my father appeared on the stage, mic in hand, "You are all such an important part of Cullen & Co., a part of our family. Nothing brings me greater pleasure than to ring in the new year with you all."

The countdown started then and my heart began pounding in response, breaking a little bit more with each beat.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two. . ."

I looked down at Julia, her sympathetic eyes finding mine.

". . .one."

We leaned towards each other, our lips touching for the slightest of moments before we pulled away. She looked at me, smiling sadly.

"You're wishing I was another woman," she said gently.

"So are you," I quipped.

"Sorry," she shrugged, "The penis does nothing for me."

I laughed, embracing her again.

"Thanks, friend," I whispered into her ear.

**May 2009**

"Edward! Edward! Over here!"

The flashbulbs were going off so fast, I barely had time to react.

"Just stay by my side, it'll be over soon," Sela Austin's voice came somewhere from my right.

I hated these things, hated them more than anything else in the world. I could sit through presentations, meetings and pitches all day long but a red carpet event. . .I despised them. I only participated in them because my mother told me it'd be good exposure for the company. To see a young, vibrant youth, full of life, leading the company. I didn't want to tell her that it seemed to be having the opposite effect: I looked like a rich, spoiled playboy spreading his seed all over town. The truth was, I barely knew the women I was set up with for these things. I knew they were models or actresses, but they all seemed to look the same to me. Too thin, too bony. Not like the curvaceous woman I often saw in my dreams. Dark, long hair. Full lips.

"Over here, you two look great together," a voice yelled out from in front of us.

I hadn't been in a serious relationship since Bella. I'd dated a handful of women, but none ever got farther than the first date. My mother, worrywart she was, began setting me up on these media dates to help boost my confidence. I didn't tell her it was a lack of confidence on why I wasn't dating, it was because I simply had no desire to. It was growing more and more embarrassing to have my own mother setting me up, but I went along with it because it meant getting her off my back in terms of settling down into a real relationship. She thought I was having fun with these women, distracting myself from the continual pain of losing Bella. I wasn't.

I pasted a smile on my face, nonetheless. Somewhere out there, Bella was happy. Happy and dating. I needed to move on and accept the fact that I'd ruined everything. That I'd let my own insecurities allow Charlie to convince me to give up on us. I never thought I was good enough for his daughter, but I realized now I should've kept fighting anyway.

I hated Charlie, for what he had done to me, to Bella. But in the end, I could understand-he wanted to protect his daughter. He was no stranger to the world of Seattle's elite. Anyone with a newspaper or a television could see the soap opera of drama that the kids I went to prep school with caused. Trust fund babies, that's what they called us. Thinking we could buy our way out of anything. I knew from the moment he found out I was dating Bella, heard my last name, that he was wary of me. Afraid that I was using his daughter as a way to experiment outside of my social class. It was never like that though and I thought, after four years, I'd convinced him as much.

"Edward, Sela, how long have you two been together?"

**March 2010**

"I hate these things so much," I grumbled as Julia fixed my tie.

She just smiled at me, reaching up to straighten my hair.

"They're so boring, nothing exciting ever happens," I stepped back from her, mussing up my hair. I hated it when she did that.

"It's a work function, of course it's boring," she grabbed our coats off the hotel bed, "What do you expect? An impromptu musical number?"

I laughed, helping her into her coat. We exited the room, heading down to the lobby. We had been in Italy for the past week, working on acquiring yet another business partner. Work had grown more and more monotonous, I longed for some excitement. A black towne car waited for us next to the curb.

"Well, on the bright side," she said as we scooted in, "your girlfriend will be there."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. She was referring to Tanya, the newest member to Cullen &Co. I'd mistakenly gone on a few dates with her and now Julia wouldn't let me live it down. I should've known better than to mix business and pleasure, but at the time I wasn't thinking clearly. It was after another New Year spent without Bella and I finally decided it was time to get my shit together. I honestly just asked out the first girl I came across, before learning that I would be working directly with her.

It didn't take long for me to see why asking her out was a mistake: she was flighty and shallow. She knew her shit when it came to the business, but she was vicious and ruthless. Excellent traits in a businesswoman, bad traits in a potential girlfriend.

"Will you run interference?" I begged.

She looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I guess, but on one condition," I looked at her expectantly, "You have to introduce me to Bianca."

She was referring to Bianca Green, a young woman who worked in our accounting department. Julia had spent the last six months seriously crushing on her from afar.

"Deal."

Two hours later, we were seated around one of the many dinner tables set up throughout the room. It was the fourth boring speech of the night when I spotted something leaning against the wall in the corner. An Epiphone acoustic guitar, the exact model Bella had bought me for my birthday all those years ago. I looked at it curiously, wondering what it was doing there. Julia must've followed my gaze because she kicked me under the table.

"Impromptu musical performance?" she whispered.

My eyes widened as I finally noticed the strap on the guitar. Blue and gold.

"Is that. . .that's my guitar!" I whisper/yelled back at her.

"I had Victor drive back to the hotel and pick it up, I thought you could entertain the crowd," she smiled at me.

"No way," I answered, shaking my head.

"Edward, you carry that thing around with you everywhere we go and yet I've never heard you play it."

And for good reason.

"Come on," she pleaded.

There was no way I was going to break out into a musical performance in the middle of a work function. No way in hell.

"You know, this function is being covered by most major news outlets," she said suddenly.

I looked at her, confused.

"Like CNN over there and MSNBC over there," she pointed to the opposite side of the room.

The press was lined up, cameras everywhere.

"They're just here to get my dad's speech," I responded, still not understanding her point.

"Yeah, exactly," she continued, "and over there is the ABC Seattle affiliate."

I looked over and sure enough, recognized one of the reporters from all the years I spent growing up in Seattle and watching the local news.

"So. . ."she prodded, "people in Seattle will be watching. . ."

I stared at her.

"Oh my god, you are an idiot," she reached over, smacking my head, "Bella!"

"Julia," I sighed, "you know that is long over. I haven't even spoken to her since that day."

"I know, and I know that you are still in love with her and that no other woman has been able to fill her spot," she smiled sadly at me, "Just put something out there. Just to see if anything happens. Please."

I looked at her and back to the guitar. I missed playing it, missed the feel of the strings beneath my fingers. I carried it around everywhere I went, like I still had a piece of Bella with me, but I could never bring myself to play it.

"Please," she begged.

I looked back to her. She looked so desperate. She really was an incredible friend and had done nothing but be supportive of me since I had known her.

"Alright," I gave in, scooting my chair out.

As soon as I grabbed the guitar, I began walking towards the stage. Everyone's eyes were on me, probably wondering what the hell I was doing. They were prepping the stage for my father, so the only people on it were the men setting up the backdrop and podium.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," I said into the mic, "While we wait for my father, I have a musical treat to share with you."

I felt so incredibly stupid just then and almost made a mad dash for the exit, but Julia was now standing by the stage, encouraging me.

"You can do it," she whispered, so low that only I could hear.

I took a deep breath, putting the guitar strap over my shoulders.

"Questo è per il mio Bella," I said, looking down to Julia for strength.

That night I slept with my phone on the pillow right next to my ear, waiting for a phone call that would never come.

**September 2011**

"Yeah, I understand," I said into the phone receiver.

"_Edward, this is an incredibly important opportunity for us," _my father's voice was saying from the other end of the line.

"I know dad, I get it," I ran my hand through my hair, tugging at the ends.

"_I know it isn't exactly ideal for you, but I really need you here to help," _I could sense the hesitancy in his voice.

I looked down at my desk, at the calendar underneath my keyboard. Staring at the next week, I took my pen and wrote the word 'Seattle, Sept - ?.'

"_You can stay with me and your mother until we figure out who permanent your stay will be," _he said.

"Okay, alright," I wasn't even paying attention anymore, "I'll have Julia take care of everything."

We hung up and I was left feeling utterly confused. I hadn't been back to Seattle in years, hadn't wanted to revisit my life there. But now, with the merger of Cullen & Co. and Denali Enterprises, it was imperative that I went. I had been overseeing the pitch to present with Mr. Denali and now that he'd accepted it, he was requesting that I be there to make sure everything went smoothly.

"Julia," I called to her from my desk.

She popped her head in, notepad in hand.

"Yeah?" she walked in, sitting at the chair in front of my desk.

"We're going to Seattle," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Seattle?" she looked shocked.

I nodded.

A part of me, in that moment, felt like it was snapping back into place. I didn't even know if Bella was still living there, but there was the chance that she was. That I would see her. I just needed to see with my own eyes that she was happy, that she'd moved on. And then, maybe after_ all these years, I could too._

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><p>Curious to see what you guys think!<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

Hope you guys are still with me after this one.

I own nothing _Twilight._

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><p><em>This is our last goodbye<em>

_I hate to feel the love between us die._

_But it's over._

_Just hear this and then I'll go:_

_You gave me more to live for,_

_More than you'll ever. _

_This is our last embrace,_

_Must I dream and always see your face?_

_Last Goodbye - _Jeff Buckley

**Chapter 11**

**BPOV**

**November 2011**

"Do you think the turkey will be big enough?" Rose asked, her head in the refrigerator.

I nodded, absentmindedly stirring the mixture for the pumpkin muffins.

"Yes?" she asked, not having seen my nod.

"Oh, yeah," I shook my head to clear it, "how many people are coming again?"

She stood up, coming to stand next to me. She stuck her finger in the bowl I was mixing, licking off remnants.

"Me, you, Jake, Angela, Jessica, Mike," she counted them off on her fingers, "are your parents coming?"

"No, they're going to my grandma's," I replied, slapping her hand away as she reached back into the bowl.

"How are they, by the way? I haven't talked to Mom or Dad Swan in like a week," she hopped up onto the counter.

"Mom's good," I started, "but dad has been acting a little weird."

"Weird how?" she asked.

I bit my lip, trying to think how to explain it. I really couldn't though, couldn't explain my father's distance in the past few weeks. Every time I called home, he told mom he was busy. When I showed up at the house, it was like he couldn't even look me in the face.

"He's just. . .he's not Charlie," I sighed.

She put her hand on my shoulder.

"Maybe he's just stressed. How long has he been acting that way?"

I thought for a moment, trying to pinpoint the exact time my father started acting so distant.

"Probably since a little before Halloween," I explained, "it was when I went over there right after the whole Edward thing went down. I was talking to mom about it and dad walked in, asking what was going on. After I told him, he just got really quiet and made up some excuse about needing to go back down to the station."

"He probably just got so pissed at Edward for being a jackass AGAIN that he needed some space to cool off," she shrugged her shoulders.

"That wouldn't explain the utter lack of communication from him for almost a month now," I looked at her, helplessly.

"I'm sorry, Bells," she slid off the counter, pulling me into a hug.

I wrapped my arms around her, my mind going back to that night in October.

_I felt his hand on my face, on my cheek. I couldn't stop myself from looking then, lowering my face to him._

"_That guy isn't your fiancée, is he?" he whispered, his eyes searching mine. _

_I started to pull away, but before I could even react he pressed his lips to mine._

_For a moment, I didn't react. I was so caught off guard, my body simply froze. My lips against his, unmoving. When I finally regained control of my senses, I placed my hands on his chest giving him a hard shove. He stumbled back on the pavement. My hand went to my lips._

"_Bella," he began._

"_Don't you dare," I whispered._

_I could still feel the sensation of his lips on mine, like it was burned into them. I stared down at the concrete beneath my feet, trying to make sense of what had just happened. I recognized the traitorous feeling in my stomach, that of butterflies. I hated myself so much in that moment._

"_I made a mistake," I heard him say quietly._

_My eyes met his then. They were green and sad and hurt. _

"_I should've fought harder for us, I should've stayed. I didn't think I deserved you, that I would just hold you back from doing what you really wanted in life," his voice was low, calm, "I saw myself as an anchor, like you would be tied to me and stuck in this life, this ridiculously fake life."_

_He waved his hands in the air as if to say 'all of this.'_

"_The cameras, the media, the money, it doesn't mean anything Bella," he came closer to me, hesitantly, "Absolutely none of this matters."_

_I didn't make a move towards him, but I didn't make a move away from him either. _

"_This," he placed his hand on my chest, on my heart, "This is all that matters. I'm such an idiot. I don't deserve your forgiveness or even your attention. . .but I hope you will give it to me. Maybe not today, but some day."_

_I didn't know what he was expecting, his words doing nothing but confusing me even more. _

"_I know that you might not forgive me, I know that you probably hate me, but I need to tell you that-" he stopped himself, taking a moment to collect his thoughts, "I need you to know that I love you and that I never stopped loving you. Never."_

_My heart began beating faster beneath his hand, still on my chest. I could feel the swell of tears rising up inside me, but I could also still feel the anger. _

"_I need you to know that there has never been anyone else but you. That there never will be anyone else but you," he slowly removed his hand then, "I realize how selfish telling you all of this is, when I did what I did. When I am the one who left. But every day since _that _day, I've felt like I was dying inside. . .like I've just been existing without really living. When I-"_

_He stopped suddenly, rubbing his hand over his face, sighing._

"_When I thought you were dead, nothing mattered anymore. It was like all of that hurt and misery I've been feeling for years suddenly stopped and this feeling of total numbness came over me," he looked away, towards the road, "Then you came onto that stage, at the museum that night, in that dress-that green dress. . .it was like the world started spinning again."_

_I had to remind myself to keep breathing at his words, to remind myself of the pain he had inflicted on me. There were too many emotions flowing through me to make sense of. The silence grew between us, his breathes ragged as he held in whatever he was feeling._

"_Why?" I whispered so low, I wasn't sure he'd even heard me._

_He looked up at me, confused._

"_Why then?" I continued, "What gave you the push to end things if you had been feeling that way all along? Like you didn't deserve me, like you weren't good enough. What changed? Something had to have changed."_

_His gaze left mine, moving down to his feet. I knew him well enough, remembered him well enough, to know that he was processing my words, trying to think of what to say next. He only ever acted this way when he was keeping something from me. A secret, a surprise._

_A lie._

"_The London thing," he finally answered._

"_I don't believe you," I replied, "You're lying. It was something else."_

_He wouldn't meet my eyes. _

"_It was," he started, "It was the London thing."_

_Lies. What was he hiding?_

"_Goodbye Edward," I moved to leave._

"_Bella, wait," he grabbed my arm then, to keep me from walking away. _

"_No," I replied harshly, "I'm not going to stand here and listen when I know you're lying to me, when you're keeping something from me."_

"_I'm not," he pleaded._

_I just shook my head, pulling my arm from his grasp. I spun on my heel, taking a step in the opposite direction of him._

"_I'm not lying," he said louder._

_Before I knew what I was doing, I felt my hand connecting with his face. The slap was loud and seemed to echo into the night. His hand went to his cheek, his eyes widened with shock. _

"_Just…stop it," my voice was low, even, "Leave me alone. I'm sick of this, I'm sick of you."_

_He looked like I had hit him all over again. I didn't care. I wasn't going to accept a half-assed explanation from him. He was hiding something from me. _

_I started to leave for good this time, but stopped abruptly, turning to him one more time, "You were right about one thing. I do deserve better than you."_

_And then I walked away for good._

"Happy Thanksgiving!" I laughed as Jake bounded into the café, bundled up tightly in his coat and scarf.

Rose and I had shut down the coffee shop for the day, using the café as the setting for our Friendsgiving meal. It was a tradition, since most of our families lived out of town. It was one of my most favorite days of the year, having everyone together, just sitting around, laughing. No one was worried about work or life's drama.

"I brought the pie!" Jacob held up two boxes, his annual contribution.

"Set them over on the counter, that's the dessert section," Rose pointed towards front counter, which was overtaken with just about every kind of dessert you could imagine. Rose did nothing half-assed.

Angela and Jessica were setting up the Christmas tree we put up every year in the store. After dinner, we'd all get really drunk and then attempt to decorate it and the rest of the shop. It usually came out pretty crappy, but it was so much fun that Rose and I kept it as is for the entire month of December. And sometimes January. And sometimes February, depending on how lazy we were taking all of it down.

"Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the newborn king. . ." Jake sang as he helped set the table.

Rose had really outdone herself, once again. Every year she practically killed herself cooking a giant meal for everyone. She wanted to one day open her own restaurant, after she was finished with grad school. She loved cooking and baking, but despite this, I still couldn't help but feel guilty that she always ended up doing all of the meal prep.

"Jake, please, stop," Angela begged.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes, "My mother always tells me I have the voice of an angel."

"Your mother's tone deaf, Jake," Jessica quipped.

He resumed his awful singing when there was a sudden knock at the door. I made my way towards the front of the cafe, ducking under Jake's swinging arms as he did a Julie Andrews _Sound of Music _twirl. I opened the door, surprised to see Ben standing there.

"Hey," I couldn't hide the confusion in my voice.

"Hey Bella," he greeted me.

"Bella," Angela slid up next to me, "I forgot, I'm so sorry. I invited Ben."

I smiled then, "Yeah, of course, no worries."

I knew the two of them had gone out a few times, but I hadn't realized how serious it was getting between them. I watched as they made their way over to Rose and the others. Ben wrapped his arm around Angela, pulling her closer to him. They were falling in love, anyone could see it just by looking at them. The holidays were the best time to be in love, I remember that.

**Thanksgiving Day 2007**

"Alright, I think it's time someone gets this girl home," Rose laughed, taking the glass of beer out of my hand.

"Hey!" I protested.

We were gathered around our usual table at The Library. Rose had made dinner for Edward, Emmett, myself and our other friend Irena at our apartment. Naturally, the night progressed to a trip the bar, which progressed to several shots, which progressed to me climbing on top of the bar and belting out jukebox songs. Not one of my finer moments.

"Bella, babe, we need to go before Britney Spears comes on-" she started.

She was cut off by the sounds of 'Gimmie More' coming over the speakers.

"Oh god," she groaned.

I threw my hands up in the air, victoriously as I began to dance.

"Get it Bells," Emmett cheered me on.

"Where is her boyfriend?" Irena laughed, looking around for Edward, "He has to save his girlfriend from complete and utter humiliation."

"I think that ship has sailed," Rose took a swig of the beer she had stolen from me.

Emmett continued to cheer me on as I shimmied my way across the bar. Remy, the bartender, worked around me. He was use to my drunken behavior at this point, as it usually involved me shamelessly climbing on top of his bar.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Irena began chanting,

It was at a particularly epic moment of the song, which involved a twirl and a pelvic thrust, when my foot hit a rogue coaster and I went flying over the end of the counter. Just as I absorbed what I imagined were my final moments on earth, arms grabbed me just before my face could hit the floor.

I pried open my eyes to see amused green ones looking back into mine.

"Edward," I breathed.

I heard a slow clap then, Emmett standing up from the table. He was joined by every other patron of the bar that had witnessed my major failure at "dancing"-and I used the term loosely. Edward held me closer to his chest, cradling me.

"My graceful Bella," he whispered into my ear, kissing my temple.

He set me down, grabbing hold of my hand once I was on my feet. We walked back over to the table, where I took a bow.

"I think it's time to get Cinderella home," Edward said, grabbing our coats off the backs of our chairs.

I was about to protest when he leaned into me, his cologne filling my nose. I practically began drooling in my drunken haze.

"I want to see what Cinderella is wearing underneath those jeans," he said, quietly enough so that only I could hear.

I giggled, waving bye to our friends as we made out way out of the bar. It was freezing out and I pulled my coat tighter around me. I looked over at Edward, his mouth etched in a drunken grin.

"Eddie," he hated when I called him that, "race you to that mailbox?

I pointed to the mailbox down the street and before he could respond, took off towards it. He caught up with me quickly, eventually passing me.

"You'll never win, Bella!" he yelled at me from behind me.

I laughed, following behind him. He made it to the mailbox, throwing his arms up victoriously. I ran up, jumping onto his back, wrapping my legs and arms around him. He hitched me up, locking his arms around me. He began walking towards his apartment, giving me a piggyback ride as we made our way through the rows of student housing.

"When are you going to learn, Edward," I whispered into his ear, "I always win."

He laughed as I nuzzled my face into his neck, taking in the warmth that was radiating off him. We made it to his and Emmett's apartment in record time. Even with me on his back, he was still as graceful as ever. He set me down, pulling his keys out of his pocket. I followed him in and immediately found myself pressed up against the door.

"You win," he whispered to me before pushing himself against me.

His hips pressed into mine, his hands finding the edge of my shirt. I wanted his lips on me, everywhere, but when I looked up to his face, he was just looking into my eyes intensely.

"God," his voice was so soft I barely heard it, "you are so beautiful."

I felt my face redden, the blush spreading down to my chest. His smile just grew as he took it in. I began unbuttoning his shirt, slowly, absorbing the way his skin looked beneath it: soft, smooth. He just stood there, watching me undress him. I slid my hands up to his shoulders, pushing the shirt down his arms. I ran my fingers over the muscles of his chest, his stomach. I felt him shudder under my touch.

"I love you," I whispered then, kissing his neck, his jaw, his lips.

"I love you," I heard him sigh back.

His hands drifted under my shirt, slowly lifting it above my stomach, above my breasts, over my head. I could feel his hot breath on my skin as his tongue worked its way down my collar bone, down to my chest. His hands came up then, meeting where his mouth was. He squeezed gently, eliciting a groan from me.

My fingers trailed down his back, pushing him closer into me. My body craved friction, needing it. His hands were suddenly on my ass, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around him. He walked us to his bedroom, our lips never leaving each other. He laid me on the bed, rising to stand above me.

"Now, Cinderella," he smirked, moving to unbutton my jeans.

I put my hands behind my head, enjoying the view of him above me. He slowly slid my pants off me, leaving me in nothing but my bra and underwear.

"Fuck," he said, looking over my body, "can you just stay here like this forever so this is what I get to come home to every single day?"

"Only if you promise never to wear a shirt ever again," I smiled back at him.

He laughed, running his hand through his hair. I sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed, directly in front of him. My hand went to his zipper, slowly dragging it down. I looked up at him as I undid the button, his gaze setting me on fire. I pushed his pants and boxers down, he stood completely naked in front of me.

"Lie back," his voice was husky, lust-filled.

I did as he said, sliding back so my head rested on the pillows. He climbed onto the bed, hovering above me. He looped his fingers around the top of my underwear, lowering himself to kiss the inside of my thigh. I felt my body cover itself in goosebumps. He smiled down at me as he pulled off my panties, throwing them over his shoulder. Next, his fingers went to my bra straps. He slowly ran his hand over the tops of my breasts, my chest heaving at his touch.

"I want to see all of you," he said, running his fingers down my arms.

I arched my back, allowing him to reach underneath me and release the clasp of my bra. He pulled it off, throwing it in the same direction as my underwear. His eyes were full of adoration as he looked over me, taking in all of me.

"Edward," I said.

"Hmmm," he hummed as he buried his face in my neck.

I ghosted my fingers down his back as he entered me, pleasure taking over my body.

"Happy Thanksgiving," I whispered.

**Christmas Eve, 2011**

"I can't believe you're not going to be here for New Year," Angela groaned, taking a long drag of her coffee.

The café had been abuzz all day with last minute shoppers, out trying to get the gifts they forgot. Everyone needed one last caffeine fix before settling in for the night, before putting together all of the ridiculously complicated toys they got their kids. The day had finally winded down by the time I locked the doors.

"I know, it's going to be so weird," I agreed, wrapping up the last of the pastries that were left in the case.

"At least you'll be in New York, though, that'll be exciting," she hopped up on the counter next to me.

I nodded, my mind on the trip ahead of me. I was leaving for New York the day after Christmas. I agreed to go out there early to help set up the orientation material. I figured a few more brownie points couldn't hurt, plus I wanted to scope out the competition.

"God, I'm so glad this is the last day I'll be forced to this to this music!" Angela said suddenly, "I can't take anymore songs about jingle bells or silver bells or caroling of the bells."

"Oh, didn't Rose tell you?" I looked up at her, completely serious, "We've decided to play this all-year-round since we've gotten such a positive response from the customers."

She eyed me, unsure of whether to believe me or not, "You're a dirty liar, Bella Swan."

I laughed, shaking my head.

"You got me, this music is killing me too. Seriously, if I have to hear one more version of _White Christmas, _I'm burning the whole place down."

I finished up the case, shutting the light inside it off. I glanced over at the clock, taking in the time.

"Hey Ang, you don't have to wait for me to finish closing up, it's already 7," I motioned towards the clock hanging over the espresso bar.

"I'm not leaving you alone here on Christmas Eve, that would be really sad," she remarked.

"No, what would be really sad is me keeping you away from your family," I pulled her off the counter, "Now go!"

She stood her ground, refusing to move.

"Seriously, Angela, I'm almost done here and then I'm going to leave and go straight to Forks," I said, pulling out the last remaining til in the register.

She looked torn and I knew that she really wanted to leave to be with her family, but she didn't want to leave me here.

"If you don't leave now, I'm firing you," I put my hands on my hips, taking what I hoped to be a firm stance.

She burst into laughter, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, okay Bella," she continued laughing, "I'm going, I'm going. Please don't fire me!"

I started laughing then, knowing there was no way I would ever follow through with it.

"Be careful out there, and have a great Christmas," I pulled her into a hug.

"You too, Bells," she kissed my cheek, grabbing her purse from the back.

I watched her walk towards the front door, abruptly stopping.

"Hey," she said, turning to me with a giant grin, "It's snowing."

I walked over to her, both of us looking out the front door as the snow fell slowly on the dark, quiet street. It was beautiful, the flakes blanketing the earth, purifying everything.

"Drive slow," I held open the door for her, a gust of wind flowing in.

She waved at me as she walked towards her car. I kept my eyes on her as she drove away, honking her horn. I stood there for a few more minutes, admiring the beauty, the stillness of the night.

I finished closing down the store, making sure everything was set up for when Rose opened back up on the 26th. It was going to be weird being away for so long, the café was like home to me. I stood behind the counter, looking around at the tables and chairs. Rose and I had scoured thrift stores all over the city, trying to find things to furnish the store. In the end, nothing matched but yet it all still came together wonderfully.

I walked over to the espresso bar, fixing myself a drink for the long drive back to Forks. Rose had left after her shift this afternoon. Although she had offered to wait for me, I was sort of looking forward to the drive alone out there. I had been surrounding myself with people for the past month, trying to keep busy. I had been successful, the holidays causing the typical chaos they always created. I just wanted a few hours to myself though, to brace myself for what was ahead of me: New York City.

As I stood there, watching the shots of espresso pour, my mind couldn't help but wander back to where it always ended up: Edward. I hadn't seen or spoken to him since that night in October. He had finally listened and left me alone. Rose rejoiced, but a part of me couldn't let go of him. Of what he had said. It was stupid of me and I would never reveal my thoughts to Rose, but his words had awoken something inside of me that I thought had long since burnt out.

I lidded my cup, taking a sip and savoring the warmth it provided.

_I'm dreaming tonight,_

_Of a place I love even more than I usually do,_

_And although I know it's a long road back,_

_I promise you. . ._

I stopped suddenly, hearing the muted sounds of a song. For a moment, I thought I forgot to turn off the music but then I realized it wasn't coming from inside the shop, it was coming from outside.

"Carolers?" I wondered to myself.

I walked towards the door, grabbing my purse and coat as I did. I shut off the lights, laughing as the voice continued to sing.

_I'll be home for Christmas,_

_You can count on me._

_Please have snow and mistletoe,_

_And presents by the tree. _

I remembered a Christmas Eve in college, when we'd all gotten completely hammered and then went around caroling. At one in the afternoon. It was the first and last time I ever trusted Rose to make the eggnog. You couldn't taste the rum in it and by the time you realized what was happening, it was far too late and you were standing outside of the dean's house singing _Santa, Baby _at the top of your lungs.

I slid on my coat, pushing open the door as I did. But it wasn't carolers standing in front of me, it was Edward. He was holding what appeared to be an iPod of some sort in one hand and poster board in the other. I was so shocked, all I could do was stare at him, mouth open.

He set the iPod on the step of the café porch, the music continuing to play.

_Christmas Eve will find me,_

_Where the love light gleams,_

_I'll be home for Christmas,_

_If only in my dreams._

He didn't say anything but held up the poster board in front of me.

_I just wanted to say, without hope or agenda, _the sign read.

He flipped to the next one: _Just because it's Christmas._

I laughed for a second, unable to stop myself. Remembering all the times I'd forced him to watch this movie, _Love Actually,_ every year on Christmas Eve, snuggled up on the couch.

_(And at Christmas you tell the truth), _the next card read.

He had pretended to hate every second of the movie, relentlessly mocking me for loving it. I knew though, deep down, he totally loved it.

_To me, you are perfect, _his face lit up in a smile.

I could feel my own, mirroring his. The gesture was so incredibly cheesy and hokey, I thought for a second I was maybe hallucinating the whole thing.

_And my wasted heart will love you, _it read, _until you look like this. . ._

The next was the same picture that had been used in the movie, a mummified corpse.

I burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the night.

_Merry Christmas, _he mouthed along to the card as I read it.

_I'll be home for Christmas, _

_If only in my dreams,_

_If only in my dreams. . ._

The song finished up. Neither of us said a word as the silence enveloped us. Our smiles were gone then, both of us back in reality. This wasn't the Christmas of four years ago. We were different. I was different.

I shook my head.

He didn't say a word to me, just picked up the iPod, turned, and walked away.

* * *

><p>So. . .what do you think?<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

Major time jump in this chapter, just a heads up. Last chapter ended at Christmas 2011.

I own nothing _Twilight._

* * *

><p><em>There's nothing I can say, nothing I can do,<em>

_To bring you back again._

_This of life I know is true,_

_It's all falling through,_

_And so I reach for you._

_A Falling Through - _Ray LaMontagne

**Chapter Twelve**

**BPOV**

**December 2012**

"This might very well be the saddest looking Christmas tree I've ever seen," Alice stood back, looking at the tree we'd just finished setting up.

It was barely as tall as her, with popcorn strung around it and colored lights. It was the cheapest one in the tree lot, but Alice had fallen in love with it immediately. I think she had some sort of Charlie Brown complex.

"It appears to be leaning slightly to the left," I replied, leaning in the same direction as the tree.

"That's not the tree, Bella," she laughed, "That's our apartment."

I joined her laughter, knowing she was probably right. We lived in a fifth floor walk-up in Brooklyn above bodega in a building that was at least a century old. There was a good chance it was the apartment.

"No wonder I can never get anything to stay on a shelf," I shrugged.

Alice plopped down beside me, throwing her feet onto my lap.

"What time does Rose get in?" she asked, flipping on the television.

"Around six," I said, glancing at the clock.

I was so excited to see Rose, it'd been so long. She'd come to visit back in August, but I hadn't seen her since. Talking on the phone and texting just weren't the same thing as having my best friend right in front of me.

"Are you sure she'll be okay taking a cab from the airport? We can always go pick her up," Alice said, concerned.

"I think I'd be more afraid for the cab driver than for Rose," I answered, "I've known her my whole life and she still scares the piss out of me."

I glanced at the clock, 5:36 p.m. It was already dark outside, the wintertime made the days so short. This was my first holiday season in New York City and I found myself loving it more and more everyday. I still couldn't believe I lived here, that I hadn't been back to Seattle in almost a year. Hadn't spoken to my father since that Christmas day.

**Christmas, 2011**

"Mom," I said, coming up behind her as she placed the sweet rolls on the cookie sheet.

"Hey sweetie," she turned, smiling, "There's fresh coffee brewed. It's no Bella Rose coffee, but I hope it'll suffice."

"Haha, mom," I rolled my eyes, reaching up into the cabinet to grab a cup.

I sat at the table, watching my mother as she went about preparing breakfast. I could hear my father upstairs, showering, getting dressed. They'd both already been in bed by the time I arrived last night. I planned to confront my dad before people started arriving for Christmas brunch.

"Mom," I said softly.

"Yes, dear?" she asked, not turning around as she moved onto the eggs.

"Is dad okay?"

She stopped then, turning to look at me.

"What do you mean?" her brow furrowed in confusion.

"He's barely spoken to me in the past month, I'm beginning to think he'd avoiding me," I looked down into my coffee idly.

Before she could speak, dad walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a cup, filling it with coffee.

"Charlie?" my mother came up beside him.

"Hmm?" he muttered, taking a sip.

"Are you avoiding Bella?" she straight-up asked.

He choked a bit on his coffee, coughing into his hand. He looked from her to me. He didn't need to say a word, I could tell just by looking at him the answer was yes.

"What's going on, Charles?" she set down the bowl in her hands.

Dad looked at me cautiously, like a trapped animal.

"Dad," I started, "Tell me."

There was no avoiding me now, not now that I was here, in front of him. I wasn't going to let him push me away anymore, I was going to get to the bottom of this no matter what. I knew he could see the determination in my eyes, I was his daughter after all and we were more alike than either of us cared to admit.

He motioned for my mother to join us at the table, folding his hands in front of him. We sat in silence for a few minutes before he began to speak.

"There's something I need to tell you," he started, "but before I do, you need to know that your mother had no part in this. She had no knowledge of any of it. At all."

"Okay, now you're scaring me," mom said, placing her hand over his.

"Go on," I said numbly, not liking where this was going at all.

"I never thought I'd have to tell you this, I never thought he'd come back," he pulled his hand from my mother's, running it over his face.

"He?" I asked, utterly lost, "Who?"

"Edward," that one word made my heart stop.

My mother gasp, the name having an effect on her as well.

"Dad, what are you talking about?" I shook my head, trying to make sense of it all.

"Edward came to me, right before you two broke up," his eyes were looking down at the table, unable to meet mine, "He came to ask my permission to marry you."

A strangled sob escaped my lips, my hand flying to my face.

"He was going to ask you to go to London with him," he continued, his head hung low, "But I. . ."

He stopped himself.

"You what?" I asked.

"I told him he was being selfish, that he was going to force you to leave everything you knew behind," he was looking everywhere but at me, "He wasn't thinking of how it all would affect you, Bella. He was going to take you away from me, your mother, Rose. I couldn't let him do that."

I could feel the hurt and anger building within me, the shock slowly wearing off.

"You. . .you told him to break up with me?" I gasped.

"I didn't tell him to break up with you, I told him not to ask you to go to London with him," he looked me in the eye then, finally, "I asked him not to make you give up your dream."

"My dream was him, dad," I felt the tears in my eyes then, "My art, that internship, it was all because of his encouragement that I got to that point. Nothing else mattered without him there to share it with."

The tears spilled over, my rage boiling. I stood up suddenly, the chair slammed into the wall behind me.

"How could you. . .how could you put me through that?" I spat, "You saw what a complete mess I was days, weeks, months, years afterward. You held me while I cried, you force fed me when I wouldn't eat, you sat there and saw me dying right in front of your eyes and you said nothing!"

"Bella, I-" he started.

"No!" I held up my hand, silencing him, "I cannot believe this. You and Edward both lied to me this whole time."

"Bell, baby," my mom came over to me, resting her hand on my shoulder, "Lets talk about this."

"You didn't trust me to make my own choice so you took the choice away from me," I ignored her, staring at my father, "I don't care if you thought you were doing what was best for me, you nearly destroyed me!"

We both stared at each other as my mother kept repeating herself over and over, with words I couldn't make out. The pain was enveloping me, that my own father would do that to me and then watch me self-destruct, never saying a word.

"I hate you," I finally said.

I turned on my heel, heading for the front door. I flung it open, jumping back in surprise when I realized Rose was standing on the other side. Her hand was raised, poised to knock. She looked just as surprised as me.

"Merry Chris-" she stopped abruptly upon seeing my face, "Bella, what's wrong?"

I lost it then, the sobs overtaking my body. She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me close to her in a hug.

"He lied to me," I cried into her ear.

"Who lied to you, Bella?" she asked soothingly, rubbing my back.

"I'm never talking to him again."

She walked me to her car, driving me over to her parents' house. They had already left, going to her grandparents' house before planning to head over to mine. We sat on her bed, the same bed we'd spent most of our lives on; laughing, reading magazines, gossiping about boys. I told her everything, Edward's request for my hand, my father's refusal, his lies.

The next day she drove me to the airport. I hadn't been back to Seattle or spoken to my father since.

**December 2012**

We heard Rose long before we saw her. The thud thud thud of her luggage being dragged up five flights of stairs. Then came her voice, yelling into her phone.

"Okay, seriously? I can't leave for one day without the whole place going to hell," she was saying, her voice getting closer, "I said no to a salad bar, that's just tacky."

I laughed, knowing what she was talking about. Rose was in the middle of expanding the Bella Rose Café. We'd bought the property next door once its former tenants moved out. Although I no longer had my hand in the day-to-day operations, I was still Rose's partner in the business. She never did anything without consulting me. And now that I was working full-time at the Museum of Modern Art and my work was actually turning a sizeable profit, I could afford to put more money into the shop.

"Having people serve themselves completely ruins the atmosphere we're going for here, Javier," she was now directly outside the door.

I ran over, throwing it up. Her whole face lit up when she saw me.

"Javier, I gotta call you back," she said quickly, "No salad bar!"

She dropped her stuff, wrapping her arms tightly around me.

"Rosie!" I squealed.

"Bells!" she replied.

"Alice!" Alice chimed in, throwing her arms around the both of us, causing us to burst into laughter.

"Get in here before you catch your death," I helped her grab her stuff, pulling her in from the drafty hallway.

Once she was settled in, we all three plopped down on the oversized couch that took up the majority of our living room. Although Alice and I both made a decent income, New York was ridiculously expensive and our apartment, as cozy as it was, left a lot to be desired.

"I need an alcoholic beverage, stat," Rose said, taking a deep breath.

I groaned, getting up to grab some beers from the fridge.

"How was the trip?" Alice asked, pulling rogue tinsel out of her hair.

"Long, boring," Rose complained, "I got stuck sitting next to this guy with bad breath who wouldn't stop talking to me about his kid's soccer team. I finally had to fake fall asleep to get him to leave me alone."

I handed out the beers, sitting on the arm of the couch, taking in the sight before me. My two best friends, together. Though I'd only known Alice for a year, I couldn't help but feel as close to her as I was to Rose. She had been there for me through a lot, my move, my job transition. I couldn't say that I was the most pleasant person to be around for the past year, but she never gave up on me.

Having her as my roommate for the MoMA program back in January was the best thing that could've happened to me. We'd been inseparable since.

"How things back at the old homestead?" I asked, pulling myself back into the present.

"Oh my god, I have to tell you!" she sat up, excited, "Jessica and Mike are engaged!"

"Seriously?" I laughed, not really all that surprised.

I still spoke to Angela and Jessica on a weekly basis, so I was privy to the goings on of my friends. I knew when Mike and Jessica started dating, I knew when they became exclusive and I knew when he said 'I love you' for the first time. I got to live their love story through Jessica's words over the phone, every Thursday night. I was so happy for my friend, but sad that I wasn't there to witness it all in person.

"Yeah, but she made me promise not to tell you because she wanted to tell you herself. . .so you have to act surprised when you talk to her," she said.

"My lips are sealed," I pretended to lock my lips, throwing away the key.

Before any of us could say anything else, Alice's phone beeped from its place on the coffee table. She picks it up, groaning as she reads the text.

"Are you kidding?" she asked, rhetorically, "I have to run to the museum."

"For what?" I asked, surprised that they'd ask her to come in this late.

"That half-wit Grace didn't set up the Milan exhibit up right, and it opens tomorrow," she slid off the couch, walking towards her room, "Mrs. Cope asked if I could come in and lend a hand for a couple hours."

Alice was more into the design side of art. She worked on setting up the displays within the museum, as well as freelancing with different department stores like Barneys and Saks to set up window displays. I was more into the actual creative side, helping to scout new talent while still having time to work in the studio the museum had set up for resident artists. Needless to say, I very rarely ever got these types of "emergency" phone calls.

"Well, hey, why don't we go into the city with you," I said, turning to Rose, "We could grab dinner and then all meet back up after Alice is done."

"I like the sound of that," Rose nodded, "As long as there's more alcohol involved."

Alice was a cab snob, and insisted we take a cab into the city as opposed to the train. After about three months, I'd finally managed to figure out the New York City subway system and realized just how much cheaper it was than taking a cab. Alice couldn't be bothered with figuring out which train to take where, and instead relied on others to drive her. I didn't even want to ask how much she paid a month in cab fare, but her family was well enough off that I figured it really didn't matter.

While Alice headed to the museum, Rose and I made our way down to Rockefeller Center. We walked silently down the street, taking in the crowds of people as the city breathed around us.

"I can see why you love it here," Rose said as we crossed West 51st Street, "There's so much going on, so much diversity."

I linked my arm around hers, pulling her closer to me.

"It's easy to get lost here," I added, almost to myself.

"Who are you hiding from?" she asked softly.

I didn't answer, instead pulled her along through the crowds of people. After stopping into a Starbucks (or as Rose called them, her arch nemesis), we made our way over to the skating rink. The music, the tree, the lights. . .it was all incredibly beautiful.

"Are we going to talk about the obvious?" she asked finally, sipping on her hot chocolate.

"Obvious?" I asked, staring at a little girl as she wobbled along the ice.

"Your father, Edward," she replied.

Though she often brought them up, I always managed to change the subject. Since we were usually talking on the phone, it wasn't that difficult. But now that we were face to face, well I realized it was going to be a lot harder looking into her eyes.

"Rose," I warned, knowing it was useless.

"Bella, this is me, your best friend," she took my face between her hands, "You need to talk to someone about all of this or you're going to go crazy. . .well, crazier than you already are."

"Gee, thanks," I laughed, pulling away and taking a drink from my cup.

We stared ahead, watching the lights of the tree sparkle. It was a total cheese ball moment.

"I stopped by your house last week," she began, "Your mom is doing great, she's taking all her energy out on redecorating the house. It looks like QVC threw up all over."

I couldn't help but laugh. I did miss my mother, but every time we spoke, it ended up in a fight. She couldn't understand why I was unable forgive my father for what he'd done. I couldn't understand why she kept insisting I forgive him. I needed time, time to heal and come to terms with everything my father had cost me. Maybe one day I would forgive him, but I wasn't there yet.

"How's. . ." I heard the word start out of my mouth, cutting myself off.

"Edward?" she finished for me.

I couldn't look her in the eyes, instead choosing to look down at my hands. Edward was a wide open, gaping wound for me. One that I was finding harder and harder to stop thinking of. It didn't help that he was still a huge staple in the news media, for both his business ventures and the fact that he was one of the most eligible bachelor's in the country. Women fawned over him all the time, including most of the women I worked with, all of whom but Alice didn't know of my history with him.

"He still stops into the café, you know," she kept going, "I mean, he knows you're not there anymore but I think he still hopes one day he'll come in and see you behind the counter."

I wanted to ask if he lived in Seattle for good, if he was seeing anyone, if he ever asked about me. But I couldn't. I was still angry with him, still disappointed in him. Though my father's role in our breakup did change some things, it didn't change the fact that Edward chose to leave me. He could've ignored my father, could've had faith in us, but instead he left.

"He travels a lot for business," she was saying.

"What? Are you two like, best friends now?" I asked, bitterly. Then, realizing how it sounded, I added, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"Seattle's a small town," she began, "Well, small in relation to New York. People talk, particularly about handsome, young billionaire types who can't seem to settle down."

I still didn't understand what he was waiting for, why he wasn't moving on. I figured that last Christmas would be the final nail in the coffin of what was our fucked up relationship. That it would've given him the ultimate shove in the other direction.

"He's waiting for you, Bella," Rose said, as if reading my thoughts.

**New Year's Eve, December 2012/January 2013**

"I am so glad we are not one of those millions of poor bastards stuck standing in the freezing cold, down on Times Square," Alice murmured into my ear, as we made our way through the crowd.

The museum was throwing a New Year's Ball to help raise money for the Support the Arts program for local public schools. As employees, we were invited and allowed to bring a guest. I'd invited Jacob out for the holiday, I hadn't seen him since he'd come out with Rose during the summer and I desperately missed him. Also, I was secretly hoping him and Alice would hit it off since I thought they'd be perfect for each other. Rose kept yelling at me for meddling, but I couldn't help myself.

"This is pretty swanky, Bells," Jacob laughed, "I'm glad I dusted off my tux for the occasion."

I punched his arm, pulling him and Alice over towards our table. We were sitting with the rest of the museum lackeys in the back of the ballroom. I couldn't really complain, though, at least we'd been invited in the first place.

"Anyone want a drink?" Alice asked, taking off her coat and placing it on the back of her chair.

"Ooo, the real reason why I came, open bar!" Jacob jumped up, following behind her before calling out, "Sorry Bells!"

I waved him off, watching the two of them make their way over towards the bar. I took this opportunity to survey the room, taking in the people around me. It reminded me a lot of the Cullen's New Year's galas in years previous. I wondered what Edward was doing at that moment, if he was getting ready to walk into his own celebration. It was a three hour time difference, so I'd probably be long asleep before he rang in his own New Year.

I found my thoughts drifting back to him more and more lately. It was probably the holidays, but a part of me still couldn't let him go. Not even after all these years. I felt like there was never any closure between the two of us, never a final word. I'd grown so much in the last year, moving across the country, working in the field of my dreams. I finally felt confident enough in my own skin, more so than I ever had before. I also found my anger towards Edward dimming, turning more into a feeling of bitter sweetness than anything else. I often wondered what it would be like if we were to see each other again, one day, probably years from now. Both of us aged, matured. If we would be able to look at each other and there be no pain, no regret. A lot of it had to do with my loneliness, I knew that. Being in this gigantic city.

Despite constantly being surrounded by people, by friends, I still craved to fill that void that had long been created by Edward's leaving me.

And just when I was beginning to let myself fall into that trap, that black hole of emptiness that I usually only allowed myself to dwell in late at night, when Alice was long asleep, I saw him.

Edward.

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